6 


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ARDIS  CLAVERDEN 


BY 

FRANK  R.  STOCKTON 

Author  of  "  Rudder  Grange,"  "  The  Lady  or  the  Tiger,"  "  The  Late  Mrs.  Null,' 

"The  Casting  Away  of  Mrs.  Leeks  and  Mrs.  Aleshine,"  "  The 

Great  War  Syndicate,"  etc.,  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
DODD,  MEAD,  AND  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  Year  1889, 

BY  P.  F.  COLLIER, 
the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  Washington,  D.  C, 

COPYRIGHT,  1890, 
BY  DODD,  MEAD,  AND  COMPANY. 


ARDIS    CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

ON  a  pleasant  morning,  at  the  very  end  of  summer,  a 
man  was  sitting  upon  a  fence  by  a  roadside.  This 
fence  was  in  that  country  of  low  mountains  and  rolling 
land  which  lies  along  the  eastern  base  of  the  Virginia 
Blue  Ridge.  The  air  was  warm,  but  not  too  warm ;  and 
the  man  liked  warm  air.  The  sky  was  clear  and  blue 
without  a  cloud ;  and  there  was  something  in  the  heart  of 
this  man  which  made  him  love  a  sky  like  this.  He  wore 
a  wide  straw  hat  ragged  at  the  edges ;  his  shirt  was  coarse 
and  indicated  the  color  of  the  soil ;  and  his  trousers  of 
brown  cotton  cloth  were  tucked  into  the  tops  of  a  pair 
of  heavy,  well-worn  boots.  He  was  a  poor  man,  and  had 
very  little  in  this  world  except  a  wife  and  four  daughters. 
But  the  air  was  warm  and  the  sky  was  blue,  and  he  was 
happy.  And,  to  add  to  his  happiness,  there  came  to  him 
the  smell  of  grapes.  The  three  things  that  he  loved  in 
this  world,  next  best  to  his  wife  and  daughters,  were  warm 
air,  blue  sky  and  the  smell  of  grapes. 

The  perfume  which  so  pleased  this  man  did  not  come 
from  grapes  growing  on  their  vines,  for  there  was  no  vine- 
yard nearer  than  his  own  very  little  one,  and  this  year,  the 
yield  being  a  poor  one,  his  grapes  had  all  been  eaten  by 


4  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN. 

his  family.  A  gentle  wind  came  down  a  long  hill  which 
lay  above  him,  and  down  the  road  upon  this  hillside  also 
came  a  wagon  drawn  by  a  pair  of  oxen.  These,  moving 
much  more  slowly  than  the  gentle  wind,  leaned  up  against 
each  other  at  such  an  angle  that  it  seemed  a  wonder  they 
could  keep  their  feet,  and  held  back  the  creaking  wagon 
with  their  unwieldy  yoke.  By  their  side  walked  a  negro 
man  who  assisted  their  descent  by  gently  flapping  their 
sides  with  his  long  whip,  and  by  alternate  commands  and 
objurations,  always  addressing  each  animal  by  his  proper 
name.  In  the  wagon  were  six  barrels  filled  with  grapes, 
and  it  was  the  fragrance  from  these  which  came  down  the 
hill,  and  helped  to  make  happy  the  heart  of  the  man  upon 
the  fence. 

"  Hello,  Shad!  "  cried  the  man  upon  the  fence  when  the 
deliberately  moving  oxen  had  nearly  reached  him.  "Is 
that  the  whole  of  the  major's  grape  crop?  " 

"Whoa,  Rob!  Back,  Rory!"  cried  the  driver,  mildly 
accentuating  his  commands  by  a  tap  across  the  forehead 
of  the  near  ox.  His  team  having  willingly  and  suddenly 
come  to  a  stand,  the  man  walked  round  in  front  of  them. 
"  Yes,  sah,"  he  said,  "  dat's  putty  nigh  de  hull  crap,  'cep'in' 
ob  course  dem  wines  what  Miss  Ardis  has  tied  de  red 
strings  on.  Ef  her  string  hadn't  give  out  I  reckon  dar 
wouldn't  'a'  been  more  dan  a  one-hoss  load  fer  de  wine 
cellar." 

"What  does  she  tie  red  strings  on  for?"  asked  the 
other. 

"Fo'  eat'n'  pupposes,  sah.  Miss  Ardis,  she's  ob  de 
'pinion  dat  grapes  was  made  to  eat,  an'  not  to  be  squzz 
up  in  a  press;  an'  she  jes'  go  through  de  wineyard  an'  tie 
her  strings  to  eb'ry  wine  whar  de  grapes  looked  mos'  good 
to  eat;  an'  you  bet,  sah,  dat  when  de  pickers  come  to 
dem  wines  dey  jes'  pass  'em  by  as  ef  dey  was  no  'count 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN,  5 

sassafras  bushes,  an'  go  'long  lookin'  fer  wines  wid  no  red 
strings  on  'em." 

The  man  on  the  fence  smiled.  "  That  was  a  very  wise 
thing  to  do,"  he  said.  "  When  you  eat  grapes  you  know 
you  have  got  a  good  thing,  but  when  you  make  'em  into 
wine  nobody  knows  what  you're  goin'  to  get." 

"  Dat's  all  right,  sah,"  said  the  driver,  stumping  the 
butt  of  his  whip  into  the  road,  "  ef  you've  only  got  enough 
grapes  to  eat  comf'ble." 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  said  the  other,  "  if  a  man  has  a  big 
vineyard  he  might  as  well  send  what  grapes  he  can't  eat 
to  the  wine  cellar,  but  what  I  mean  is  that  he  first  ought 
to  see  that  his  family  have  all  they  want." 

"  Miss  Ardis  she  'tend  to  dat,  sah,"  said  Shad.  "  Dar's 
no  use  ob  nobody  else  gibin'  demselves  no  trouble  'bout 
dat."  And  he  raised  his  whip  in  the  air  with  the  intention 
of  starting  his  oxen. 

"By  the  way,  Shad,"  said  the  man  on  the  fence,  "is  the 
major  sendin'  any  of  his  extry  grapes  to  the  wine  cellar 
this  year?  " 

"  Dem  grapes  is  all  on  de  wines  yit ;  an'  Miss  Ardis 
didn't  tie  no  red  strings  on  'em  nuther.  De  major  he 
come  an'  tas'  'em  de  fust  minute  dey  was  ripe,  an'  he 
shuck  his  head,  an'  he  say:  '  Dey  ain't  right  yit!'  an'  he 
jes'  leabe  'em  dar  fo'  de  birds,  an'  I  s'pects  dar'll  be 
anudder  year  ob  puttin'  stuff  inter  dar  roots  an'  cuttin' 
off  dar  tops,  an'  p'raps  ob  grubbin'  'em  up  an'  beginnin' 
all  ober  agin." 

"  Very  like,"  said  the  other,  "  but  if  the  old  gentleman 
ever  expects  to  make  that  extry  wine  he's  got  to  stick  to 
his  work.  You  can't  do  anything  in  this  world  if  you 
don't  stick  to  it." 

"  Dat's  so,"  said  Shad.  And  with  a  shout  to  Rob  and 
a  shout  to  Rory,  and  a  flip  of  his  whip  over  the  sides  of 


6  ARD1S  CLAVERDEN. 

M 

each  of  them,  he  again  started  his  creaking  wagon  on  its 
road  to  the  town. 

If  an  object  in  life  of  the  man  on  the  fence  was  to  sit 
in  a  somewhat  elevated  position  by  a  road  along  which 
people  occasionally  passed,  he  was  true  to  his  principles, 
for  he  stuck  to  the  fence  long  after  the  grape  wagon  had 
disappeared  round  a  turn  in  the  road.  He  was  American 
born,  but  of  Italian  .descent.  In  the  early  part  of  this 
century  a  great  landholder  of  the  neighborhood  had  de- 
termined to  undertake  grape-growing  on  a  large  scale. 
He  studied  the  subject  in  Italy  and  the  south  of  France, 
and  brought  over  several  Italian  vine-dressers  in  order 
that  he  might  introduce  into  this  country  a  knowledge  of 
the  proper  culture  of  the  grape.  His  vines  had  all  died 
out  long  ago,  but  the  vine-dressers  took  root  in  the  soil, 
and  if  they  did  not  flourish  they  multiplied. 

All  of  their  descendants,  except  the  man  on  the  fence, 
had  departed  from  the  immediate  neighborhood,  but  this 
one  had  always  lived  here,  and  for  many  years  had  occu- 
pied a  very  small  house  on  a  corner  of  the  large  farm  be- 
longing to  Major  Claverden.  He  cultivated  a  few  acres 
about  this  house,  and  by  making  himself  useful  in  many 
ways  to  his  neighbors  he  earned  some  money,  and,  in  a 
manner,  supported  his  wife  and  family.  In  regard  to  his 
own  support  he  depended  almost  entirely  upon  philosophy, 
and  it  must  be  admitted  that,  as  a  rule,  he  fared  much 
better  than  did  his  wife  and  daughters. 

Warm  air,  a  clear  blue  sky,  and  the  smell  of  grapes 
could  not  come  to  him  in  every  season,  but  his  philosophy 
enabled  him  to  remember  them  and  to  look  forward  to 
them  even  in  the  bleakest  days  of  winter.  There  was 
never  a  comforting  element  in  any  circumstance  and  con- 
dition of  his  life  which  he  was  not  able  to  extract.  He 
had  an  ingenious  mind ;  he  was  skilful  with  tools ;  he  was 


AKDfS  CLAVERDEN.  7 

a  good  sportsman ;  and  was  well  versed  in  agriculture  and 
vine-growing.  Had  he  done  as  much  as  he  knew  how  to 
do  he  might  have  been  a  moderately  prosperous  man,  but 
had  he  worked  hard  and  systematically  he  would  not  have 
been  so  happy,  and  thus,  without  having  given  the  matter 
much  consideration,  he  had  grown  into  the  habit  of  allow- 
ing his  philosophy  to  make  up  the  deficits  occasioned  by 
his  disinclination  to  hard  and  systematic  work. 

His  family  name  was  Bonetti,  but  this  had  long  since 
been  corrupted  by  the  people  in  the  neighborhood  into 
Bonnet.  Only  Major  Claverden  and  his  daughter  Ardis 
called  the  man  by  his  proper  name.  The  old  major  re- 
membered the  grandfather  Bonetti,  and  nothing  would 
have  induced  him  to  descend  to  the  use  of  a  corruption 
of  the  Italian  name. 

The  smell  of  grapes  which  had  hung  long  in  the  sum- 
mer air  had  almost  faded  away,  when  a  lady  came  riding 
down  the  hill.  She  was  mounted  upon  a  tall  mare ;  and 
in  the  pasture  field,  as  close  to  the  fence  as  it  could  get, 
there  came  a  young  colt,  trotting,  galloping,  stopping,  and 
whinnying  to  its  mother,  who  occasionally  turned  her 
head  and  whinnied  in  answer.  The  lady,  who  was  young 
and  a  good  rider,  came  deliberately  down  the  hill,  and  as 
she  approached  him  the  philosophizer  got  down  from  the 
fence  and  stood  near  the  road. 

"  Good-morning,  Miss  Ardis,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hat. 

"  Good-morning  Mr.  Bonetti,"  said  she,  drawing  up  her 
steed.  "  How  is  your  little  girl?  " 

"  Oh,  she's  nearly  well,  thank  you,"  he  answered.  "  I 
think  it  was  grapes,  and  as  the  grapes  are  gone  the  child 
recovers.  Nature  is  a  fine  physician,  Miss  Ardis." 

"  But  if  nature  had  given  you  more  grapes,"  said  she, 
"  she  would  probably  have  taken  away  your  child.  In  that 
case  would  you  still  wish  her  to  practise  in  your  family?" 


8  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

Bonetti  laughed.  "  She  has  treated  us  very  well  so  far," 
he  said,  "  and  she  never  sends  any  bills.  So  I  think  we 
shall,  for  the  present  at  least,  keep  on  employing  her. 
And  by  the  way,  Miss  Ardis,  do  you  know  what  nature 
would  say  to  you  if  she  happened  to  be  about  just  now 
and  felt  like  giving  advice?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea,"  she  answered. 

"  Well,  it's  my  opinion  she'd  say  that  it  wasn't  a  good 
thing  to  let  that  colt  follow  you  along  the  edge  of  the  field. 
It  would  have  been  safer  to  shut  him  up  before  you 
started." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  want  to  have  him  shut  up  such  a  fine  day 
as  this,"  she  said,  "  and  he  can't  follow  me  very  far,  any- 
way. When  he  gets  down  to  the  line  fence  he  will  have 
to  stop." 

"  I'm  not  so  sure  about  that,"  said  Bonetti.  "  That 
line  fence  is  pretty  shacklin',  and  right  much  broken  in 
some  places ;  and  if  the  colt  doesn't  get  over  and  follow 
you  to  town,  it's  as  like  as  not  he'll  break  one  of  them 
thin  legs  of  his  tryin'  to  do  it." 

The  handsome  face  of  Miss  Ardis  grew  thoughtful  and 
her  dark  eyes  turned  toward  the  colt,  who  stood  close  to 
the  other  side  of  the  fence  trying  to  thrust  his  head  be- 
tween two  of  the  bars. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Mr.  Bonetti,"  she  said.  "  I  will 
go  back  and  have  the  colt  put  up."  And  quickly  turning 
her  mare,  she  set  off  on  a  gallop  up  the  hill. 

The  colt  instantly  followed  on  his  side  of  the  fence. 
Bounding  along  he  kept  neck  and  neck  with  his  mother, 
his  little  feet  sounding  in  quick  thuds  upon  the  short  turf. 

Bonetti  stood  in  the  road  and  looked  admiringly  after 
the  young  lady.  "When  she's  got  anything  to  do,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "  she  goes  right  along  and  does  it!  "  And 
then  he  walked  to  the  fence  and  resumed  his  seat  on  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  9 

top  rail.  He  had  a  little  patch  of  potatoes  which  were 
ready  to  be  dug,  and  there  was  a  man  who  lived  about  a 
mile  and  a  half  up  the  road  who  owned  a  potato  hook — 
a  much  better  implement  than  an  ordinary  spade  with 
which  to  dig  potatoes — and  as  this  man  sometimes  rode 
to  town  in  the  morning,  Bonetti  was  waiting  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  see  him  and  talk  to  him  about  borrowing  his 
potato  hook.  If  the  man  should  not  pass  by,  Bonetti 
would  walk  up  to  his  house;  but  this,  of  course,  would 
take  time. 

Not  many  minutes  had  elapsed  before  a  man  on  horse- 
back appeared  at  the  top  of  the  hill,  but  it  was  not  the  man 
for  whom  Bonetti  was  waiting.  This  was  a  tall  gentleman, 
fairly  well  dressed,  although  his  clothes  were  a  little  rusty, 
and  he  rode  a  bony  horse  of  a  muddy  cream  color,  which 
hue  was  so  peculiar  that  having  been  once  seen,  this  horse 
could  never  be  mistaken  for  any  other.  This  gentleman 
was  about  forty  years  old,  although  his  sober  dress  and 
the  weather-beaten  appearance  of  his  features  made  him 
look  much  older.  He  wore  no  beard,  but  the  razor  could 
not  remove  the  strong  bluish  tinge  which  covered  his 
cheeks  and  chin,  and  this  also  helped  to  make  him  look 
older  than  he  was. 

When  Bonetti  perceived  the  new-comer  his  eyes  spar- 
kled. He  would  rather  see  Dr.  Lester  than  twenty  other 
men  each  carrying  a  potato  hook  which  he  did  not  intend 
to  use  that  day.  The  new-comer  brought  no  suggestion 
to  Bonetti  of  any  one  of  the  three  things  which  he  loved 
next  to  his  wife  and  daughters,  but  he  and  the  doctor 
were  both  philosophizers  and  great  friends. 

"  Morning,  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  stopping  his 
horse.  "  Can  you  tell  me  what  sent  Miss  Ardis  back  home 
in  such  a  hurry?  She  just  now  passed  me  in  a  mad  gallop 
and  had  scarcely  time  to  give  me  a  word." 


10  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  She  has  gone  back,"  said  the  other,  "  because  the  colt 
was  following  her.  She  is  goin'  to  have  him  shut  up/' 

"Confound  the  colt!"  said  Dr.  Lester.  And  throwing 
his  long  right  leg  over  the  back  of  the  horse,  he  dis- 
mounted, and  still  holding  the  bridle  in  his  hand,  ap- 
proached the  fence  and  took  a  seat  on  the  top  rail  near 
Bonetti. 

"•If  you're  goin'  .to  do  any  confoundin',"  said  the  latter, 
"  you'd  better  confound  me,  for  I  put  it  into  her  head  to 
have  the  colt  shut  up.  He's  too  good  a  colt  to  run  any 
risks  with." 

"  Your  advice  may  have  been  all  very  well  for  the  colt," 
said  the  doctor,  "  but  it  was  bad  for  me.  When  I  was 
more  than  half  a  mile  away  from  the  major's  gate  I  saw 
Miss  Ardis  ride  out  of  it,  and  I  knew  by  the  little  yellow 
mail-bag  which  she  wore  that  she  was  going  to  town.  I 
hurried  up,  and  I  am  quite  sure  I  should  have  overtaken 
her  and  have  ridden  into  town  with  her,  and  perhaps  come 
back  with  her,  if  she  had  not  changed  her  mind  and  gone 
charging  home." 

"You've  good  eyes,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti,  "to  see  that 
little  bag  so  far." 

"  I  have  very  good  eyes  for  some  things,"  the  other  re- 
plied, "and  I  must  say  I  am  disappointed." 

"What  is  the  good  of  that?"  asked  Bonetti.  "Just 
stay  here  and  make  yourself  comfortable  till  she  comes 
back,  and  when  we  see  her  at  the  top  of  the  hill  you  can 
get  on  your  horse  and  be  ready  to  go  along  with  her  just 
as  you  would  have  done  before." 

The  doctor  settled  himself  more  easily  upon  the  fence. 
"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  the  best  thing  to  do  is  to 
wait." 

Bonetti  looked  around  at  him  with  a  little  twinkle  in  his 
eye.  "  How  long  do  you  expect  to  wait,  doctor? "  he 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  II 

asked.  "  I  don't  mean  here  by  the  road,  but  before  put- 
ting the  question  to  her." 

The  doctor  straightened  himself  up  so  suddenly  that 
he  jerked  the  cream-colored  horse's  head  from  the  grass 
on  which  he  was  browsing.  "Put  the  question  to  her!  " 
he  exclaimed.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  could  ever  be  such 
an  inordinate  fool  as  to  put  the  question  to  Miss  Ardis 
Claverden?" 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  Bonetti,  "  that  a  man  feelin'  as  you 
do  in  the  direction  of  any  woman  would  be  bound  to  put 
the  question  to  her  if  he  had  a  chance." 

The  doctor  remained  for  a  moment  sitting  up  straight, 
and  then  he  settled  down  again  to  his  former  easy  posi- 
tion, his  body  leaning  forward,  his  elbows  on  his  knees, 
and  his  heels  on  the  second  rail  below  him.  "  Bonnet," 
said  he,  "  I  hoped  you  had  a  better  opinion  of  me  than 
that.  Who  am  I  to  offer  to  marry  a  girl  like  Miss  Ardis? 
What  have  I  got  to  give  her?  What  sort  of  a  place  have 
I  to  take  her  to?  Do  you  suppose  she  could  live  in  one 
room  as  I  do,  and  be  content  with  the  meals  that  old  Aunt 
Hetty  cooks  for  me?  I  tell  you,  Bonnet,  that  if  a  man 
like  me,  pretty  well  on  in  years,  without  good  looks,  with- 
out any  money  to  speak  of,  and  who  does  nothing  to  earn 
a  livelihood  for  himself  or  anybody  else,  were  to  propose 
to  marry  a  young  lady  who  has  lived  the  life  that  Miss 
Ardis  has  always  lived,  he  would  commit  what  I  call  an 
impertinent  crime." 

Bonetti  reflected  for  a  moment.  "  I  reckon  you're  right, 
doctor,"  he  said.  "  The  points  of  the  case  seem  to  be 
on  your  side.  I  have  heard  people  say  that  you  never 
practised  on  any  patient  for  love  or  money.  Is  that  so?  " 

"  That  is  so,  Bonnet,"  replied  the  doctor.  "  I  am  sorry 
for  it,  but  it  cannot  be  helped  now.  It  is  nearly  twenty 
years  since  I  came  back  from  the  University  and  put  my 


12  ARDIS   CL  AVER  DEN. 

diploma  up  on  a  top  shelf  in  my  room.  I  did  not  feel 
myself  ready  to  take  people's  lives  in  my  hands,  and  if 
they  sent  for  me  for  little  things  they  might  send  for  me 
for  great  ones ;  and  the  more  I  studied  and  looked  into 
the  matter  the  stronger  I  felt  that  there  was  no  reason 
why  I  should  put  myself  forward  as  a  practising  physician 
in  a  country  where  there  were  already  plenty  of  good 
doctors.  I  used  to  think  that  the  time  would  come  when 
I  would  feel  ready  to  make  a  start  in  my  profession,  but 
it  has  not  come  yet,  and  it  never  will.  If  I  had  not  had 
a  little  income,  enough  for  one  man  to  scratch  along  with, 
I  should  have  been  obliged  to  take  some  risks  like  other 
beginners ;  but  that  was  not  the  case,  and  I  did  not  take 
the  risks." 

:i  I  have  noticed,"  said  Bonetti,  "  that  you  never  so 
much  as  state  your  notions  about  a  cold  or  a  toothache. 
There  isn't  an  old  woman  in  the  county  who  wouldn't  do 
that!" 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  people  are  not 
bound  to  take  advice  from  an  old  woman,  and  they  might 
feel  bound  to  take  it  from  a  man  who  had  been  graduated 
from  a  college  of  medicine." 

Bonetti  smiled.  "I  reckon,  doctor,"  he  said,  "that 
you'd  been  as  good  as  any  of  'em  if  you  had  only  thought 
so.  But,  as  you  say,  that's  neither  here  nor  there  at  the 
present  time.  But  it  seems  a  little  hard  that  a  man  of 
good  family  who  reads  as  much  as  you  do  and  who  knows 
as  much  as  you  do,  and  who  does  as  many  different  kinds 
of  things  as  you  do  by  day  and  by  night,  should  have  to 
come  to  look  on  himself  as  you  look  on  yourself." 

"It  is  hard,  Bonnet,"  replied  the  other,  "but  it  can't 
be  helped." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Bonetti,  "  suppose  Miss  Ardis  was  to 
come  to  you  and  say  that  she  had  seen  what  was  in  your 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEiV.  13 

mind  and  knew  why  you  didn't  speak  it  out,  and  consid- 
erin'  the  circumstances  of  the  case  she'd  do  the  speakin' 
herself,  and  say  squarely  that  she  was  ready  to  marry  you 
just  as  you  stood:  what  would  you  do  then?  " 

Doctor  Lester  gazed  steadfastly  at  the  grass  beneath 
him.  "  In  that  case,"  he  said,  "  we  will  suppose  it  is  in 
the  morning  she  makes  that  statement  to  me." 

"All  right,"  said  Bonetti,  "we  will  let  it  be  in  the 
mornin'." 

"  Very  well,"  answered  the  doctor.  "  I  should  just  sim- 
ply let  myself  be  the  happiest  man  on  earth  that  morning, 
and  in  the  evening  I'd  go  and  hang  myself.  I  have 
thought  of  this  thing  myself,  Bonnet,  and  that  is  what  I 
should  do.  If  I  waited  longer  than  that  evening  I  might 
not  be  able  to  hang  myself." 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti. 
"  I  reckon  that  hangin'  on  the  same  day  would  be  the  best 
thing  you  could  do." 

The  doctor  made  no  answer  but  continued  to  gaze  at 
the  grass. 

"But  with  things  in  that  way,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti, 
after  a  little  pause,  "  do  you  intend  to  keep  on  thinkin'  of 
Miss  Ardis  as  you  do  think  of  her?  " 

"  Keep  on!  "  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "  I  intend  to  keep 
on  until  the  end  of  time — at  least  to  the  end  of  my  time. 
I  would  not  say  this  to  everybody,  Bonnet,  but  you  and 
I  have  talked  over  this  matter  so  often  before,  that  I  don't 
mind  letting  you  see  just  how  the  case  stands." 

"It  strikes  me,"  said  Bonetti,  "that  it  would  be  wearin' 
on  a  man  to  keep  on  with  a  thing  like  this." 

"  It  would  be  a  good  deal  more  wearing  on  me  to  stop 
it,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Of  course  it  wouldn't  do  to  stop  it  too  suddenly,"  said 
the  philosophizing  Bonetti.  "  It  is  like  smokin'  or  any 


14  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

other  habit,  and  considering  you  have  had  it  ever  since 
she  was  not  more  than  a  child,  the  breakin'  of  it  off  is  a 
thing  to  be  careful  about."  And  turning  his  eyes  suddenly 
toward  the  top  of  the  hill,  he  exclaimed:  "And  here  she 
comes!  "  But  almost  instantly  added:  "  No,  she  doesn't, 
either!" 

Dr.  Lester  had  let  down  his  long  legs  preparatory  to 
slipping  from  the  fence,  but  now  he  drew  them  back  again 
and  looked  up  the  hill.  It  was  not  Miss  Ardis  who  was 
coming;  it  was  a  negro  boy  on  horseback.  The  two  men 
watched  him  as  he  approached. 

"  It's  the  major's  boy  Tom,"  said  Bonetti. 

The  doctor  said  nothing,  but  looked  steadfastly  at  the 
boy,  and  when  he  came  near  enough  Bonetti  called  out : 
"  O  Tom !  Where  you  goin'  ?  " 

The  boy,  who  carried  by  a  strap  over  his  shoulder,  not 
a  neat,  yellow  leathern  bag,  but  a  large  and  well-worn 
brown  satchel,  replied:  "  I's  gwine  to  de  pos'-office." 

"  I  thought  Miss  Ardis  was  goin',"  said  Bonetti. 

"  Yes,  san,"  replied  Tom,  "she  'tentioned  to  go,  but 
cump'ny  done  come  an'  I's  gwine."  And  with  that  he 
rode  on. 

Dr.  Lester  got  down  from  the  fence,  put  the  bridle  over 
the  neck  of  his  horse,  and  standing  on  one  long  leg,  put 
the  foot  of  the  other  into  the  stirrup  and  mounted. 

"Goin'  to  town?"  asked  Bonetti. 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  have  no  call  to  go  to  town. 
I  reckon  I  will  stop  on  my  way  back  and  have  a  chat  with 
Major  Claverden.  That  isn't  what  I  expected,  Bonnet, 
but  it  is  better  than  nothing.  Good-morn-ing."  And  turn- 
ing his  cream-colored  steed,  he  began  the  ascent  of  the  hill. 

"  I  almost  wish,"  said  Bonetti  to  himself,  "  that  I  had 
let  that  colt  break  its  legs.  And  yet,  what  would  have 
been  the  good  of  it?  If  the  doctor  ever  gets  an  extra 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  15 

fair  chance  to  speak  his  mind  to  Miss  Ardis,  it's  ten  to 
one  he'll  forget  himself  and  do  it.  And  if  that  ever  hap- 
pens, good-by  to  Doctor  Lester!  Whether  she  takes  him 
or  turns  him  off  it  will  be  all  the  same.  If  he  doesn't 
hang  for  her  sake,  he'll  do  it  for  his  own." 

And  then  Bonetti,  having  a  superstition  that  it  is  un- 
lucky to  wait  by  a  roadside  until  five  persons  pass  in  the 
same  direction,  and  being  oppressed  therefore  with  the 
fear  that  should  the  owner  of  the  potato  hook  now  appear 
there  might  be  some  reason  why  that  instrument  could 
not  be  borrowed,  got  down  from  the  fence  and  went  home. 


1 6  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER    II. 

BALD  HILL,  the  estate  of  Major  Claverden,  was  a 
very  good  one,  although,  as  any  one  in  the  neighbor- 
hood would  tell  you,  it  was  not  what  it  used  to  be  before  the 
war.  But  while  this  may  be  true  in  many  respects,  the 
owner  of  Bald  Hill,  a  man  of  sixty-five  years  and  in  very 
good  physical  condition,  was  enabled  to  live  in  comfort, 
and  to  a  certain  degree  in  the  style  to  which  the  Claverden 
family  had  been  accustomed.  His  spacious  house  was  of 
brick,  built  in  the  somewhat  severe  fashion  of  many  of  the 
old  Virginia  mansions.  A  fine  lawn  shaded  by  large  trees, 
most  of  which  had  been  planted  by  the  major's  father, 
stretched  before  the  house,  and  the  character  of  the  farm, 
which  included  some  six  hundred  acres,  was  not  to  be 
judged  from  the  stony  hill,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
house,  which  gave  its  name  to  the  estate.  Much  of  the 
land  was  fairly  good,  and  enough  of  the  arable  portion  of 
it  was  under  cultivation  to  satisfy  its  owner's  present  needs. 

There  were  horses  for  riding,  driving,  and  farm  pur- 
poses, all  of  them  good  ones  and  raised  on  the  place ; 
there  were  vehicles  of  various  sorts  in  the  carriage  house ; 
the  negro  driver  wore  a  very  good  black  coat  and  a  high 
silk  hat;  there  was  always  plenty  to  eat  and  to  drink;  the 
woodlands  afforded  abundance  of  oak  and  hickory  log? 
for  winter  fires;  and  the  major's  only  child,  Ardis,  was  as 
well  dressed  as  any  young  lady  in  her  position  need  wish 
to  be. 

Mrs.  Claverden  had  died  when  her  daughter  was  very 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  17 

young,  and  the  child  had  been  given  the  family  name  of 
her  mother.  "  I  wish  my  daughter  to  always  remember," 
the  major  would  say,  "  that  she  is  an  Ardis  as  well  as  a 
Claverden."  And  if  he  happened  to  have  an  appreciative 
listener  he  would  probably  continue :  "  A  remarkable  thing 
about  these  two  families  is  this:  I  never  heard  a  Claverden 
say  that  he  was  better  than  an  Ardis,  or  an  Ardis  that  he 
was  better  than  a  Claverden,  and  considering  the  high 
position  of  the  two  families  this  is  exceptional.  I  feel 
warranted  in  saying  it  is  truly  exceptional!  Now,  while 
I  desire  that  my  daughter  shall  never  feel  that  she  is 
better  than  her  neighbors,  I  hope  that  she  may  so  live 
that  all  who  know  her  shall  say  that  she  is  better  than  any 
one  else,  excepting,  of  cour.-e,  the  speaker  and  his  family. 
I  may  add  that  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  that  this  will  be 
the  case." 

The  major's  admiration  for  his  daughter  was  well 
grounded,  for  everybody  admired  her,  even  those  who 
criticised  her  independence  of  thought  and  action.  In 
high  regard  and  esteem  of  her  her  father  stood  pre-emi- 
nent. In  his  mind  she  was  the  reason  why  good  things 
should  be  and  bad  thing3  should  not  be ;  and,  furthermore, 
he  was  often  of  the  opinion  that  she  was  the  reason  why 
good  things  were  and  bad  things  were  not. 

Ardis  did  what  she  pleased  because  her  father  felt  as- 
sured that  she  always  pleased  to  do  what  was  right.  The 
conviction  had  not  come  to  him,  although  it  had  come  to 
other  people,  that  he  often  thought  things  were  right  be- 
cause she  pleased  to  do  them.  But,  although  he  was  thus 
willing  to  defer  to  his  daughter's  judgment  in  matters 
which  concerned  herself,  or  himself  in  affairs  over  which 
he  did  not  choose  to  exercise  jurisdiction,  Major  Claver- 
den was  a  man  of  strong  opinions.  In  a  great  degree  the 
conduct  of  affairs  at  Bald  Hill  was  placed  in  the  hands 

2 


1 8  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

of  Ardis,  and  the  fact  that  she  did  not  endeavor  to  inter- 
fere with  those  affairs  over  which  her  father  chose  to  re- 
tain control  showed  that  his  confidence  in  her  judgment 
was  not  entirely  misplaced. 

They  were  very  happy,  father  and  daughter;  each  in- 
dependent of  the  other,  and  yet  each  dependent  on  the 
other  for  that  independence.  Ardis  was  beautiful,  and 
this  she  owed  to  both  her  parents;  she  had  talents  of 
various  kinds,  and  these  she  inherited  from  both  father 
and  mother ;  and  she  had  an  earnest  desire  to  do  what  was 
right,  and  this  also  came  to  her  from  both  sides  of  the 
family.  That  she  did  not  always  know  what  was  right 
arose  from  the  fact  that  a  mother's  family  name  does  not 
take  the  place  of  a  mother's  guidance. 

As  a  child  Ardis  had  been  well  taken  care  of  by  her 
nurses  and  relatives ;  as  a  girl  she  had  had  all  the  advan- 
tages that  teachers  and  schools  could  give  her;  but  as  a 
woman  there  was  no  one  on  whom  she  depended  for 
counsel  or  direction.  Should  she  lay  a  subject  before  her 
father,  it  nearly  always  happened  that  she  had  a  precon- 
ceived notion  in  regard  to  it,  and  on  the  carrying  out  of 
that  notion  the  major  would  insist — sometimes,  if  he 
thought  necessary,  with  a  little  severity.  It  had  been 
suggested  by  relatives  that  it  would  be  a  very  good  thing 
if  Ardis  could  have  some  pleasant  middle-aged  lady  to 
live  with  her  and  to  give  her  a  certain  amount  of  com- 
panionship as  well  as  assistance  in  household  affairs ;  at 
anything  more  than  this  no  relative  would  have  thought 
of  hinting.  But  Major  Claverden  vigorously  declared  that 
he  wanted  no  old  woman  meddling  with  his  domestic 
affairs,  and  Ardis  quietly  but  firmly  asserted  that  so  long 
as  she  had  the  services  of  Caroline,  a  superior  negro  serv- 
ant who  for  many  years  had  acted  as  housekeeper,  and 
those  of  Henry,  the  veteran  dining-room  servant,  she 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  19 

needed  no  assistance  in  household  duties;  and  as  for 
companionship,  she  would  have  to  think  a  long  time  be- 
fore she  could  fix  her  mind  upon  any  person  whom  she 
would  be  willing  to  take  into  the  house  as  a  constant  com- 
panion. Thus  it  was  that  the  father  and  daughter  made 
up  the  family,  and  were  very  happy. 

As  has  been  said,  Major  Claverden  had  other  strong 
opinions  besides  those  in  regard  to  his  daughter.  Among 
these  were  ideas — some  of  which  had  proved  to  be  very 
good  ones — about  agriculture  and  grape-growing.  For 
many  years  he  had  had  a  theory  that  no  reason  existed 
why  as  good  wine  should  not  be  produced  from  grapes 
grown  on  his  estate  as  from  those  picked  from  vines  on 
the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  He  had  journeyed  up  and  down 
the  Rhine,  had  visited  the  vineyards,  carefully  examined 
and  studied  the  soil,  the  vines,  the  exposures,  and  the 
methods  of  culture,  and  was  not  able  to  perceive  why  a 
grape  grown  in  Virginia  should  not  possess  all  the  superior 
wine-making  properties  of  a  grape  grown  in  Germany. 
To  the  perfection  of  such  a  grape  he  had  devoted  certain 
suitable  slopes  of  his  farm  and  a  great  deal  of  his  thought 
and  attention.  So  far  he  had  produced  no  grapes  which 
satisfied  him,  but  he  had  an  earnest  belief  that  eventually 
he  should  do  so. 

Ever  since  she  could  remember  Ardis  had  heard  of  the 
"  wine  of  Bald  Hill,"  that  wonderful  liquor  which  was  to 
rival  the  wine  of  Johannisberg.  Into  a  belief  in  the 
realization  of  her  father's  dreams  in  regard  to  this  wine 
Ardis  had,  in  a  manner,  been  educated.  This  faith  re- 
mained unquestioned,  for  she  always  believed  in  her  father. 

When  Dr.  Lester  reached  Bald  Hill  he  found  the  com- 
pany whose  arrival  there  had  been  the  cause  of  his  losing 
the  ride  to  town  with  Miss  Ardis,  was  made  up  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Dalrymple  and  their  grown  daughter.  Mr.  Dal- 


20  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

rymple  was  a  retired  business  man  from  the  Northwest 
who  had  recently  bought  a  farm  in  the  neighborhood, 
intending  to  devote  himself  to  rural  pursuits.  Major 
Claverden  and  his  daughter  had  called  on  the  family,  and 
this  was  the  return  visit. 

The  ladies  were  on  the  back  piazza,  a  wide  and  com- 
modious structure  which  had  recently  been  built  for  the 
pleasure  of  Ardis,  and  under  her  direction.  She  greatly 
liked  this  cool,  partly  vine-embowered  piazza;  and  here, 
when  her  father  and  Mr.  Dalrymple  began  to  talk  of 
agricultural  matters,  she  had  taken  Mrs.  Dalrymple  and 
her  daughter.  To  this  piazza.  Dr.  Lester  greatly  desired 
to  repair.  He  did  not  know  the  Dalrymples,  but  Miss 
Ardis  was  there,  and  where  she  was  there  would  he  be,  no 
matter  who  else  might  be  present.  But  Major  Claverden 
was  just  starting  out  to  show  Mr.  Dalrymple  his  vineyard, 
and  he  invited  the  doctor  to  accompany  them.. 

The  latter  had  heard  over  and  over  again  the  fullest 
accounts  of  what  the  Bald  Hill  vines  were  intended  to  be, 
but  he  was  a  gentleman,  and  a  gentleman  had  asked  him 
to  join  another  gentleman  in  observations  in  which  it  was 
to  be  expected  that  gentlemen  would  take  an  interest, 
and  he  could  think  of  no  reason  which  it  would  be  proper 
to  express  why  he  should  excuse  himself  and  go  and  sit 
with  three  7adies.  If  he  had  not  been  conscious  of  a 
special  reason  for  desiring  to  be  with  the  ladies,  he  might 
have  thought  of  some  excuse  which  would  have  answered 
his  purpose  very  well. 

Therefore  the  doctor  trudged  by  the  side  of  the  major 
toward  the  southern  slope  of  Bald  Hill.  All  the  way 
Major  Claverden  talked  about  what  he  had  done  and 
what  he  intended  to  do  in  regard  to  the  ultimate  produc- 
tion of  the  wine  of  Bald  Hill.  Mr.  Dalrymple  interjected 
a  good  many  remarks,  chiefly  in  the  form  of  questions, 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  21 

while  the  doctor  wondered  why  it  should  happen  that 
these  people  should  determine  to  come  to  Bald  Hill  on  a 
morning  when  otherwise  he  might  have  had  the  inestima- 
ble privilege  of  riding  to  town  with  Miss  Ardis.  Any 
other  morning  would  have  suited  the  Dalrymples  as  well  as 
this ;  but  when  would  such  a  happy  chance  again  present 
itself  to  him?  He  made  a  promise  to  himself  that  the 
next  time  such  an  opportunity  occurred  to  him  and  he 
was  not  prevented  from  taking  advantage  of  it,  he  would 
give  one  dollar  to  the  poor.  The  doctor  could  not  afford 
such  charity,  but  he  made  the  promise  in  good  faith  and 
would  stand  by  it. 

"Now,  sir,"  said  the  major  to  Mr.  Dalrymple,  "you  see 
before  you  a  hill  which  is  precisely  similar  in  all  its  con- 
ditions to  those  slopes  from  which  the  most  famous 
Rhenish  wines  are  produced.  Like  many  of  the  vine- 
yards on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  this  hill  was  originally 
totally  unfitted  for  the  culture  of  the  grape.  It  had 
nothing  in  its  favor  but  the  climate  of  the  region  and  its 
exposure.  As  the  hills  on  the  Rhine  were  terraced,  I 
terraced  this  one ;  a  suitable  soil  was  deposited  by  manual 
labor  upon  their  terraces,  so  I  deposited  soil  on  these. 
There  is  no  difference,  sir,  between  the  earth  in  which  the 
Rhenish  vines  grow  and  this  earth.  Years  of  observation, 
analysis,  and  patient  labor  have  enabled  me  to  feel  entirely 
certain  upon  this  point.  The  vines  on  this  slope  are  the 
same  as  those  which  grow  in  the  famous  Johannisberg 
vineyard.  To  have  them  so,  sir,  cost  me  more  money, 
time  and  thought  than  you  can  or  are  likely  to  imagine." 

"I  do  not  see,"  said  Mr.  Dalrymple,  "how  that  sort  of 
thing  could  be  done  at  all!  The  Johannisberg  people 
would  not  allow  cuttings  to  be  taken  from  their  estate, 
and  I  cannot  imagine  how  any  one  could  imitate  their 
vines!  " 


22  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

The  major  smiled  slightly.  "  Of  course  it  would  take  a 
good  deal  of  study  to  make  one  able  to  comprehend  that 
branch  of  the  subject.  But,  as  I  was  saying,  sir,  you  see 
before  you  a  vineyard  with  all  the  characteristics  and 
qualities  of  a  Rhenish  vineyard.  To  be  sure  our  river,  the 
Tardiana,  which  flows  here  at  the  foot  of  the  hills,  is  not 
so  wide  as  the  Rhine  where  it  passes  the  Johannisberg 
Schloss,  but  what  influence,  sir,  can  the  width  of  the  river 
have  upon  the  flavor  of  a  grape?  " 

"  That  may  be  one  of  the  influences  which  exist,"  said 
Mr.  Dalrymple,  "  but  which  we  cannot  perceive." 

"I  may  say  further,"  said  the  major,  "that  where  the 
Rhine  is  wider  the  grapes  are  not  so  good.  Now,  sir,  in 
this  portion  of  my  vineyard  is  everything  favorable  to  the 
production  of  the  very  best  grape  which  can  be  found  in 
the  Johannisberg  vineyard ;  the  only  difference  being  that 
one  is  called  Bald  Hill  and  the  other  John's  Mountain. 
And  if  my  life  and  health  hold  out  a  few  years  longer,  I 
think  I  shall  make  it  evident  that  as  good  wine  can  be 
produced  on  the  one  as  on  the  other." 

"You  cannot  imitate  nature,"  said  Mr.  Dalrymple. 
"  What  she  does  for  the  grapes  on  the  Rhine  she  is  not 
going  to  do  here — at  least  I  do  not  think  so." 

Dr.  Lester  had  not  yet  spoken,  but  Mr.  Dalrymple's 
tone  drew  his  mind  from  the  contemplation  of  his  morn- 
ing's disappointment.  "  You  forget,  sir,"  he  said,  "  that 
the  most  valuable  grapes,  as  well  as  the  most  valuable 
vegetable  products  of  other  sorts,  are  the  result  of  man's 
work  and  thought.  They  are  improvements  upon  nature. 
And  no  good  reason  has  yet  been  offered  why  Major 
Claverden  should  not  grow  as  good  wine  grapes  from  the 
vines  which  he,  not  nature,  placed  on  this  hill  as  are  grown 
on  the  vines  which  the  Germans,  not  nature,  placed  on 
the  hills  of  the  Rhine." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEX.  23 

Mr.  Dalrymple  glanced  at  the  speaker,  who  he  thought 
must  be  a  very  poor  kind  of  doctor  if  he  had  nothing  to 
do  but  to  wander  about  in  this  idle  way.  "  You  might  as 
well  try,"  he  said,  "  to  manufacture  an  Apollinaris  spring 
in  one  of  the  cracks  or  gullies  in  your  hills.  If  you  could 
do  that,  now,  it  would  be  worth  something." 

"The  rest  of  my  vineyard,  sir,"  said  the  major,  paying 
no  attention  to  this  remark,  "  is  planted  with  the  varieties 
of  grape  generally  grown  in  this  country." 

And  then,  as  the  party  walked  back  to  the  house,  the 
major  talked  of  other  things  than  grapes.  His  manner 
was  very  courteous  during  the  rest  of  the  Dalrymple  call, 
but  in  his  mind  was  a  fixed  determination  that  he  would 
never  have  anything  more  to  do  with  the  man  Dalrymple. 
If  his  daughter  liked  the  ladies  and  chose  to  visit  them 
she  could  do  so,  but  he  would  never  go  near  the  house. 
If  he  met  the  man  he  would  treat  him  politely,  and  that 
would  be  all. 

The  callers  soon  departed,  but  Dr.  Lester  remained  to 
dinner,  which,  according  to  the  time-honored  custom  of 
the  country,  was  served  somewhere  between  two  and  three 
o'clock. 

The  two  gentlemen  had  just  finished  their  after-dinner 
pipes  when  Ardis  appeared.  She  wore  a  broad  straw  hat, 
and  in  one  hand  she  carried  a  basket. 

"  I  am  going  to  pick  some  grapes,"  she  said,  "  from  the 
vines  I  reserve  for  family  use.  Don't  you  want  to  come 
and  help  me,  doctor?  " 

Gates  of  Heaven !     He  arose  with  a  spring. 

Dr.  Lester  staid  to  supper;  and  he  spent  the  evening 
up  to  ten  o'clock  playing  whist  with  Miss  Ardis,  her  father, 
and  a  dummy.  When  the  young  lady  had  retired  he 
passed  the  rest  of  the  evening  talking  politics  with  the 
major,  with  the  accompaniment  of  pipes  and  some  apple 


24  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

toddy  which  his  host  mixed  with  much  skill  and  delibera- 
tion. 

Dr.  Lester  staid  all  night  at  Bald  Hill,  as  was  frequently 
his  custom ;  but  he  arose  very  early  in  the  morning  and 
rode  home  on  his  cream-colored  horse.  "  There  is  no 
reason,"  he  said  to  himself,  "  why  a  man  who  has  been  as 
hopelessly  happy  as  I  was  yesterday  should  expose  him- 
self to  the  possible  frosts  of  breakfast-time." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  25 


CHAPTER  III. 

AMONG  the  several  gentlemen  whose  admiration  of 
Miss  Ardis  Claverden  had  deepened  into  an  earnest 
affection  was  Mr.  Roger  Dunworth,  who  owned  a  large 
farm  about  five  miles  from  Bald  Hill.  He  was  a  good- 
looking  young  man,  a  little  over-tall  perhaps,  a  hard 
worker  and  an  able  manager.  He  lived  a  bachelor  life  in 
a  large  house ;  and  his  estate,  which  was  partly  inherited 
and  partly  bought  from  other  heirs,  was  productive  and 
kept  in  admirable  condition.  His  family  consisted  of 
himself  and  three  young  Englishmen  who  were  his  pupils 
in  husbandry.  This  was  a  section  of  country  much 
affected  by  English  settlers,  many  of  whom  were  young 
men,  often  of  good  family,  who  saw,  or  thought  they  saw, 
in  Virginia,  opportunities  of  becoming  land  owners  and 
prosperous  farmers  which  were  totally  denied  to  them  in 
their  own  country.  It  was  their  custom  to  make  a  more 
or  less  systematic  study  of  Virginia  fashions  of  country 
life  and  agriculture;  and  with  this  object  in  view  they 
would  enter  as  pupils  into  the  families  of  such  farmers  as 
were  willing  to  take  them ;  and  thus  the  English  pupil  had 
become  a  not  uncommon  element  in  the  households  in 
that  part  of  the  country. 

Although  young  Dunworth  worked  hard,  superintended 
his  negro  hands,  and  conscientiously  endeavored  to  keep 
his  pupils  in  paths  which  should  be  profitable  both  to  them 
and  to  himself,  he  found  time  for  rural  recreations.  He 
went  out  with  his  gun  and  dogs  in  the  hunting  season,  and 


2  6  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

he  liked  at  any  season  to  make  occasional  visits  to  his 
neighbors.  But  his  most  frequent  visits  were  made  to 
Bald  Hill. 

It  was  now  two  years — ever  since  Ardis  had  finished 
her  school  life  and  had  taken  her  place  as  director  of  her 
father's  household — that  Roger  Dunworth  had  been  seri- 
ously in  love  with  her.  He  had  never  mentioned  this  fact 
to  any  one,  although  everybody  was  well  aware  of  it. 
Ardis  perfectly  understood  the  state  of  affairs,  but  she 
pursued  the  tenor  of  her  way — sometimes  even  and  some- 
times otherwise — without  regard  to  such  condition,  and 
treated  the  matter  so  coolly,  indeed,  that  many  persons 
thought  the  affair  was  settled,  and  that  the  young  couple 
only  awaited  a  suitable  opportunity  to  make  a  public  an- 
nouncement of  it. 

Roger  Dunworth  was  a  sharp-seeing  person,  and  he 
knew  perfectly  well  that  other  men  loved  Ardis,  but  among 
these  he  never  numbered  Dr.  Lester. 

The  latter,  on  his  part,  was  as  much  inclined  to  be  ret- 
icent in  a  matter  of  this  sort  as  was  Dunworth ;  but  as 
he  never  expected  to  speak  to  Ardis  on  the  subject,  it  was 
a  positive  relief  to  him  to  speak  to  some  one,  and  to  no 
one  could  he  open  his  mind  with  greater  confidence  and 
satisfaction  than  to  Bonetti.  This  brother  philosophizer 
was  interested  in  many  things  which  interested  the  doctor. 
Like  the  doctor  he  was  thoroughly  versed  in  wood-craft; 
understood  the  habits  of  animals,  birds,  snakes,  and  in- 
sects; could  carve  wood;  and  had  a  cunning  hand  in 
making  ingenious  mechanical  contrivances.  The  doctor 
was  a  well-educated  and  well-read  man,  while  Bonetti  had 
spent  but  a  small  portion  of  his  boyhood  in  school,  but 
the  latter  had  a  quick  and  bright  intelligence,  and  in  the 
winter-time  read  with  interest  and  advantage  the  books 
which  his  friends  lent  him.  The  two  belonged  to  very 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  27 

different  classes  of  society,  but  the  sympathy  between 
them  prevented  either  of  them  from  paying  any  attention 
to  this. ' 

Dunworth  considered  Bonetti  the  best  sportsman  in  the 
county,  and  was  often  glad  to  have  his  opinion  in  regard 
to  vines,  horses,  or  the  training  of  a  dog;  but  beyond  this 
he  merely  looked  upon  him  as  a  good-natured  but  lazy 
fellow  who  ought  to  do  at  least  as  much  for  his  wife  and 
daughters  as  the  latter  did  for  him.  Had  the  two  lived 
nearer  to  each  other,  it  is  probable  that  frequently  Dun- 
worth  would  have  lent  Bonetti  potato  hooks  and  other 
tools,  but  at  the  same  time  he  would  have  worried  the 
latter  by  offering  him  work  when  he  was  more  agreeably 
occupied. 

One  Saturday  morning  Dunworth  was  riding  toward  the 
town,  to  which  centre  of  the  county's  interests  his  business 
occasionally  took  him.  Being  alone,  it  was  natural  that 
his  thoughts  should  be  upon  Ardis,  and  he  was  thinking 
hard.  His  ideas  were  not  arranged  systematically,  but 
they  had  a  general  tendency,  and  that  was  toward  a  de- 
termination to  speak  plainly  to  Ardis  on  the  first  favor- 
able opportunity.  He  had  not  spoken  so  far  because  he 
believed  that  the  proper  time  had  not  arrived.  And  he 
was  entirely  right.  He  could  see  very  well  that  although 
Ardis  might  like  him  and,  in  a  measure,  be  fond  of  him, 
she  had  not  yet  come  to  like  him  so  well  that  she  would 
be  willing  to  accept  his  love  to  the  exclusion  of  that  of 
every  other  man.  But  now  he  thought  he  ought  to  speak. 
In  the  first  place,  his  love  for  Ardis  had  greatly  grown  of 
late,  and  was  much  more  difficult  to  restrain  than  it  had 
been;  and  in  the  second  place,  there  was  every  reason 
to  believe  that  the  love  of  other  people  for  the  girl 
had  also  increased  and  might  be  difficult  to  restrain.  As 
she  had  grown  physically  and  mental'yj  she  had  grown 


28  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

more  and  more  lovely,  and,  therefore,  more  likely  to  be 
loved. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  neighborhood  whom  Dunworth 
looked  upon  as  a  rival.  His  fears  in  this  respect  con- 
cerned men  whom  he  had  never  seen,  but  of  whom  he  had 
heard.  These  Ardis  had  met  in  Washington  and  New 
York,  in  which  cities  she  had  spent  portions  of  the  past 
two  winters.  He  had  heard  of  these  men  from  Ardis 
herself,  and  knew  that  she  had  a  good  opinion  of  them, 
but  that  she  would  be  likely  to  meet  them  again,  or  that 
any  one  of  them  would  propose  to  her,  he  had  no  particu- 
lar reason  for  believing.  He  argued,  however,  upon  the 
general  principle  that  if  any  one  of  these  pleasant  gentle- 
men should  meet  her  again  he  would  be  very  likely  to 
offer  himself  to  her.  In  view  of  such  a  contingency  Dun- 
worth  had  now  determined  to  offer  himself  before  Ardis 
again  left  Bald  Hill.  There  was  no  need  for  hurry  about 
it,  for  winter  was  still  distant,  but  also  there  was  no  reason 
for  delay  if  a  good  opportunity  should  offer  itself.  With 
his  mind  fully  made  up  on  these  points  he  entered  the 
town. 

Bolton  was  only  a  country  town,  and  not  a  very  large 
one ;  but  it  was  the  county-seat,  and  therefore  a  place  of 
general  resort  to  the  people  of  the  surrounding  country. 
Its  principal  street  was  wide  and  well  supplied  with  shops 
of  various  kinds  and  grades,  from  a  large  and  imposing 
pharmacy  to  a  little  one-story  house  in  which  a  negro 
cobbler  had  his  shop.  On  one  side  of  this  street  opened 
a  wide,  well-paved  place,  generally  known  as  "  the  square," 
although  it  was  oblong.  Here  were  the  bank,  the  post- 
office,  and  various  places  of  business,  and  at  its  farthest 
end  was  the  railroad  station.  On  the  other  side  of 
the  street,  a  little  higher  up,  was  another  open  space  not 
as  large  as  this,  and  in  it  stood  the  court  house.  The 


ARD1S  CLA-VERDEtf* 


29 


front  yard  of  this  building,  shaded  by  trees  and  moderately 
provided  with  grass,  was  the  only  spot  in  Bolton  which  in 
any  way  resembled  a  public  green. 

On  the  monthly  court  days  and  on  Saturdays  the  town 
was  a  busy  place.  Country  people  came  in  from  all  parts ; 
on  horseback,  in  spring  wagons,  in  wagons  without  springs, 
and  sometimes  might  be  seen  a  negro  in  a  creaking  little 
cart  drawn  by  one  mournful  and  diminutive  ox.  Great 
wagons  with  their  teams  moved  up  and  down  or  stood  in 
the  middle  of  the  street,  and  whenever  a  driver  of  a 
vehicle  wished  to  speak  to  a  neighbor  he  stopped  wher- 
ever he  happened  to  be,  and  the  drivers  of  other  vehicles 
meandered  patiently  around  him.  There  were  blacks  and 
whites,  with  all  the  intermediate  shades,  and  everybody 
seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  everybody  else. 

It  was  about  noon,  and  Roger  Dunworth,  having  finished 
his  business  in  the  town,  was  untying  his  horse  from  the 
front  of  the  post-office,  when  a  dog-cart  driven  very  rapidly 
came  diagonally  across  the  square,  and  was  pulled  up, 
with  a  great  jerk,  in  front  of  the  post-office.  Roger's  horse 
started  at  the  clatter  of  the  wheels,  and  his  master  looked 
up  and  saluted  the  occupant  of  the  dog-cart.  This  vehicle 
was  very  high,  with  enormous  wheels,  and  its  driver  looked 
as  if  he  were  perched  upon  the  box  of  a  stage-coach. 
The  horse  was  of  moderate  size,  with  light  buff  harness 
and  a  short  cropped  tail,  and  he  suggested  the  idea  that 
he  must  have  a  hard  time  in  keeping  out  of  the  way  of 
the  overhanging  vehicle  behind  him. 

No  one  could  for  a  moment  doubt  that  the  young  man 
in  the  dog-cart  was  an  Englishman.  He  was  small  of 
stature,  with  a  ruddy,  beardless,  boyish  face,  and  was 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  light  corduroy  which,  considering  the 
season,  appeared  heavy  and  warm.  On  his  head  he  wore 
one  of  those  helmet-like  structures  of  linen  and  cork  gen- 


30  ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 

erally  preferred  in  summer  by  Englishmen  to  the  straw 
hats  of  America,  and  his  countenance  and  manner  indi- 
cated high  health  and  a  constant  desire  to  be  doing  some- 
thing with  energy. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Dunworth?  "  he  cried,  springing 
down  from  the  dog-cart  and  taking  Roger's  hand  w:th  a 
clap  and  a  grip  which  would  have  served  better  to  take  a 
culprit  by  the  collar  than  a  friend  by  the  hand. 

This  individual  was  Tom  Prouter,  a  young  Englishman 
who  was  neither  a  pupil  of  husbandry  nor  an  intending 
settler  in  this  country.  He  was  of  a  good  English  family, 
with  a  moderate  income  and  fair  expectations.  He  had 
come  to  Virginia  because  he  had  friends  there,  and  be- 
cause he  had  learned  he  could  live  there  and  enjoy  him- 
self for  a  great  deal  less  money  than  if  he  remained  in 
England.  He  made  his  home  at  the  house  of  one  of  his 
friends  a  few  miles  from  Bolton.  He  kept  his  horse,  his 
dog-cart,  his  setter,  and  his  gun;  and  was  as  happy  a 
young  fellow  as  could  be  found  in  the  State.  He  was  of 
a  very  sociable  disposition,  and  was  on  a  friendly  footing 
with  many  of  the  native  families  of  the  neighborhood  as 
well  as  with  those  of  his  compatriots. 

"Going  home,  Mr.  Dunworth?"  said  Prouter. 

"Yes." 

"  Good !  I  am  going  your  way — at  least  part  of  it.  I 
am  going  to  stop  at  Bald  Hill,  and  I  hope  the  old  major 
will  ask  me  to  stay  to  dinner." 

"  I  am  going  to  stop  there  myself,"  said  Roger. 

"Really?"  cried  Prouter.  "  That's  tip-top !  Wait  a 
minute  until  I  post  these  letters  and  see  if  there  is  any- 
thing for  the  family.  And  then  I  have  got  to  go  to  two 
or  three  shops  and  get  the  things  that  they  have  given 
me  a  list  of,  and  after  that  I  have  nothing  to  do  in  town 
but  to  go  to  the  railway  station  and  get  a  time  -table  for 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  31 

old  Miss  Airpenny,  who  is  going  off  by  train  somewhere 
to-morrow.  I  shall  be  with  you  in  three  minutes." 

"  What  nonsense!  "  exclaimed  Roger  with  a  laugh.  "  It 
will  be  half  an  hour  or  more  before  you  are  ready  to  leave 
town,  and  I  can't  wait  here  all  that  time.  I  shall  ride  on, 
and  perhaps  you  can  catch  up  with  me." 

"  I'll  do  it!  "  cried  Prouter.  "  I'll  be  with  you  before 
you  have  gone  a  mile!"  And  he  dashed  into  the  post- 
office. 

Dun  worth  mounted  and  rode  away.  He  had  not  posi- 
tively intended  to  stop  at  Bald  Hill,  although  he  had  been 
thinking  about  it ;  but  Prouter's  statement  of  his  inten- 
tion instantly  determined  him  to  do  the  same  thing.  Since 
his  thoughtful  ride  that  morning  his  purposes  regarding 
Ardis  Claverden  had  become  much  more  definite.  He 
was  not  jealous  of  Prouter,  who  knew  Ardis  but  slightly, 
nor  was  he  afraid  of  him,  although  a  young  Englishman 
who  would  one  day  come  into  a  good  property  and  posi- 
tion, should  not  be  looked  upon  with  indifference  as  a  rival 
if  he  chose  to  make  himself  such.  But  now  that  Ardis 
concerned  Roger  more  than  ever  before,  he  felt  that  her 
male  friends  concerned  him  more  than  ever;  and  if 
Prouter  intended  to  stop  at  Bald  Hill  he  would  stop  too. 
He  liked  the  young  Englishman  and  would  have  been 
glad  to  have  his  company  on  the  road  had  he  been 
mounted,  but  Dunworth  had  no  desire  to  ride  before, 
after,  or  by  the  side  of  a  rattling  dog-cart. 

He  reached  Bald  Hill  before  Prouter  left  the  town. 
Ardis  was  not  visible,  but  the  major  received  his  visitor 
with  great  cordiality.  Dunworth' s  horse  was  taken  away 
and  the  two  men  ensconced  themselves  in  comfortable 
chairs  on  the  porch.  They  had  duly  discussed  the  country 
and  the  crops,  and  Roger  was  beginning  to  think  that 
Ardis  was  a  long  time  in  'making  her  appearance,  when 


32  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Prouter  whirled  upon  the  scene,  his  face  in  a  glow  and  his 
horse  streaked  with  foam.  Throwing  the  reins  on  the 
back  of  his  panting  beast  he  sprang  to  the  ground  and 
was  about  to  lead  the  animal  to  a  hitching-post,  when 
Major  Claverden  called  to  him  that  a  man  would  take  his 
horse  and  advanced  to  greet  him. 

Prouter  instantly  turned,  and  with  five  steps  and  a  jump 
crossed  the  grass-plat  in  front  of  the  house,  and  reached 
the  bottom  of  the  porch  steps  by  the  time  the  major  was 
at  the  top.  After  the  customary  salutations  he  turned 
around  uneasily  toward  the  negro  who  was  leading  away 
his  horse.  He  felt  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  say  some- 
thing. If  this  was  to  be  merely  a  morning  call  there  was 
110  need  that  the  horse  should  be  taken  to  the  stables,  and 
he  could  not  assume  that  the  case  was  otherwise. 

"  Do  not  be  disturbed  about  your  horse,"  said  the  major, 
smiling.  "  My  man  will  not  water  him  before  he  is  cooled 
off,  and  you  will  stay  to  dinner  with  us." 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  said  the  relieved  Prouter. 
s(  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  it.  I  was  only  thinking  if  it  rained 
some  of  those  parcels  in  the  cart  would  get  wet ;  two  or 
three  of  them  are  sugar,  I  think." 

"  Have  no  fear  about  them,"  said  the  major.  "  Your 
dog -cart  shall  be  put  under  cover." 

And  then,  fearing  that  he  had  made  an  unnecessary  im- 
putation, Prouter  turned  a  little  redder  than  usual ;  and 
declaring  that  it  made  no  difference  anyway,  took  his  seat 
on  a  bench,  at  the  end  of  the  porch.  Now  the  inter- 
rupted conversation  was  resumed,  and  although  Prouter 
took  very  little  part  in  it,  he  leaned  forward  on  his  bench 
with  his  elbows  on  his  knees  and  listened  with  an  earnest 
energy  which  would  have  encouraged  the  poorest  talker. 
Very  soon  Ardis  made  her  appearance,  looking  lovely  in  a 
white  dress  with  a  cluster  of  old-fashioned  garden  flowers 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  33 

in  her  belt.  She  gave  a  gracious  welcome  to  each  of  the 
two  young  men,  and  as  Roger  took  her  hand  some  agree- 
able thoughts  flashed  into  his  mind.  "  She  knew  I  was 
here.  She  was  a  long  time  coming  down.  She  is  beau- 
tifully dressed."  These  were  thoughts  very  encouraging 
to  a  lover. 

The  young  Englishman  greatly  enjoyed  his  dinner. 
"  What  I  like  about  a  meal  like  this,"  he  exclaimed  with 
enthusiasm,  "  is  that  it  is  out-and-out  American !  Now,  I 
don't  mean  to  say  that  I  do  not  like  an  out-and-out  Eng- 
lish dinner,  better  than  any  other,  which  I  do,  and  expect 
to  have  them  all  my  life  when  I  settle  down;  but  the 
people  at  Loch  Levin  give  me  meals " 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  Major  Claverden. 
"  Is  that  the  present  name  of  Mr.  Quantrill's  place  ?  It 
was  always  called  Black  Gum  Bottom." 

"  They  didn't  like  that,"  said  Prouter,  "  and  wanted  to 
give  it  an  Old  Country  name,  and  they  have  a  bit  of  a 
mill-pond  near  by.  As  I  was  saying,  their  meals  are  about 
half -naturalized,  and  are  neither  one  thing  nor  the  other. 
Now,  I  like  everything  about  me  to  be  out-and-out,  one 
thing  or  the  other!  " 

"And  yet,"  said  the  major,  "judicious  admixtures  are 
very  valuable.  From  these  have  come  the  first  results  of 
civilization." 

"That  is  very  true,"  said  Prouter,  "where  it  concerns 
race-horses  or  grapes,  but  I  don't  think  it  works  with 
dinners.  That  sort  of  thing  I  like  out-and-out,  like  this 
one." 

After  dinner  Major  Claverden  invited  his  guests  to 
smoke  with  him  on  the  porch.  This  invitation  was 
accepted  with  alacrity  by  Prouter,  and  with  some  hesita- 
tion by  Dunworth,  who  waited  a  little  to  see  what  Ardis 
going  to  do.  But  as  she  stepped  aside  to  speak  to  a 
3 


34  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

servant  he  followed  the  other  gentlemen,  hoping  that  Ardis 
would  join  the  party,  for  he  knew  she  was  not  afraid  of 
the  smell  of  good  tobacco  in  open  air. 

Prouter  was  soon  in  a  state  of  great  delight  over  the 
major's  manner  of  lighting  his  pipe.  A  negro  boy  brought 
on  a  shovel  some  glowing  embers  from  the  kitchen  fire, 
and  with  a  pair  of  small  tongs  made  for  the  purpose  Major 
Claverden  took  up  one  of  these  and  applied  it  to  his  well- 
filled  pipe-bowl. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  he,  in  reply  to  an  exclamation  from  the 
young  Englishman,  "  I  never  light  my  pipe  with  a  match 
or  piece  of  burning  paper.  I  always  use  a  coal  of  fire,  as 
did  my  father  before  me.  Anything  else  would  destroy 
the  flavor  of  the  tobacco." 

"By  George!  that's  a  splendid  idea!  "  cried  Prouter  as 
he  took  the  tongs  and  lighted  his  pipe  with  a  coal.  "  When 
I  settle  down  I  am  going  to  have  a  little  chap  like  that  to 
bring  me  coals  of  fire  for  my  pipe." 

"  But  in  England  you  ought  to  be  out-and-out  English," 
said  Dunworth. 

"  When  I  smoke  Virginia  tobacco,"  said  Prouter,  "  I 
am  going  to  be  out-and-out  Virginian." 

As  he  smoked,  Roger's  eyes,  as  well  as  his  thoughts, 
wandered  from  his  company.  If  he  saw  Ardis  in  the 
garden,  or  anywhere  about  the  grounds,  he  intended  to 
join  her.  The  major  had  just  finished  his  pipe  when  that 
young  lady  appeared  in  the  doorway.  She  had  changed 
her  dress  and  now  wore  a  dark  gown  with  a  long,  white 
apron  with  a  front  attachment  which  came  up  nearly  to 
her  throat.  This  garment  was  decorated  with  spots  and 
lines  of  various  colors  which  did  not  appear  to  have  been 
imprinted  thereon  in  any  regular  design. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  she,  "  I  want  a  model." 

"  In  that  case,"  said  the  major,  knocking  the  ashes  from 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  35 

his  pipe  and  rising,  "  I  will  give  way  to  these  younger 
men.  I  have  done  my  full  duty  as  a  model,  and  will  go 
and  look  after  my  people,  who  are  by  no  means  models, 
I  assure  you." 

Dunworth  and  Prouter  instantly  offered  their  services  to 
Miss  Claverden,  and  accompanied  her  to  her  studio.  In 
temperament  Ardis  Claverden  was  essentially  artistic. 
Her  father  had  gratified  her  inclinations  in  this  direction, 
and  she  had  had  a  more  thorough  instruction  in  drawing 
and  painting  than  is  generally  received  by  girls  who  are 
not  expected  to  become  professional  artists.  She  was 
very  much  in  earnest  about  her  art  work,  and  if  she  did 
not  actually  expect  to  make  it  her  life-work,  she  had  very 
strong  leanings  that  way.  An  artistic  career  appeared  to 
her  delightful.  She  would  have  liked  to  study  in  Paris, 
to  have  an  atelier  at  the  top  of  a  tall  old  house,  to  mingle 
with  the  students  in  the  Ecole  des  Beaux- Arts,  to  copy  in 
the  galleries  of  the  Louvre  and  Luxembourg,  and  after  a 
year  or  two  of  all  that,  to  wander  through  Italy  and  Ger- 
many, grafting  her  own  art  imaginings  on  those  of  the 
masters.  Her  disposition  was  as  much  inclined  toward 
the  "  out-and-out "  as  was  Prouter's. 

In  disposition  Ardis  was  conscientiously  independent. 
She  believed  it  to  be  her  duty  to  judge  for  herself  what 
was  right  and  what  was  wrong ;  and  although  in  some 
cases  her  decisions  came  in  a  flash,  in  others  they  were 
slov/  and  carefully  weighed.  She  had  once  thought  that 
it  might  be  well  for  her  to  study  medicine  and  practice 
among  poor  people;  and  she  had  taken  Dr.  Lester  into 
her  confidence  on  this  subject.  His  strong  prejudices 
against  women  doctors,  imbibed  when  he  was  a  student, 
and  his  thorough  knowledge  of  the  vicissitudes  and  hard- 
ships of  a  physician's  life,  derived  from  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  all  the  doctors  in  the  county,  enabled 


36  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

him  to  persuade  her  that  a  medical  career  was  entirely 
unsuited  to  her;  and  this  project  was  thought  of  no  more. 
To  persuade  her  that  an  artistic  career  was  unsuited  to 
her  would  have  been  a  much  more  difficult  task,  inclina- 
tion being  such  a  powerful  ally  of  duty. 

Ardis's  studio  was  a  large  building  which  had  once  been 
a  barn,  but  she  had  totally  changed  its  original  character 
and  made  it  entirely  suitable  for  her  purposes.  A  tall 
window  was  put  'into  the  northern  gable,  and  the  large 
room  was  fitted  up,  not  only  conveniently  but  elegantly. 
Her  disposition  turned  her  toward  elegance  as  well  as 
toward  art. 

"Now,  gentlemen,"  said  Ardis  when  they  had  entered 
the  studio,  "which  of  you  will  be  my  model?  " 

Dunworth  was  about  to  ask  for  what  she  wanted  a 
model,  when  Prouter  declared  that  he  would  pose  for  her 
in  any  position  she  desired.  "  If  my  face  is  not  vener- 
able enough,"  he  said,  "we  can  doctor  it  up  and  make 
it  so." 

"  I  don't  care  anything  about  a  face,"  Ardis  answered. 
"  I  want  a  back.  I  desire  to  sketch  a  retreating  figure." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Prouter,  "  I  can  retreat.  Shall  I 
retreat  into  a  corner?  Do  you  want  me  to  put  on  any  of 
these  costumes?  " 

"  Your  present  attire  will  suit  me  very  well,"  said  Ardis. 
"And  you  need  not  be  in  such  a  hurry  to  retreat.  That 
is  not  like  a  true  Englishman.  Let  me  show  you  what  I 
am  doing."  And  she  led  them  to  a  canvas  on  an  easel. 
"  You  see,"  she  said,  "it  is  a  backwoodsman  just  about  to 
shoot  at  a  flying  enemy.  Father  stood  for  the  figure  in 
the  foreground.  He  is  a  good  sportsman  and  knew  just 
how  to  stand  and  raise  his  rifle.  And  now  I  want  the 
man  running  away  in  the  middle  distance." 

"  I'll  suit  him  exactly,"  said  Prouter,  "  for  I  am  shorter 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  37 

than  Mr.  Dunworth  and  will  not  have  to  go  so  far  to  give 
the  right  perspective." 

Ardis  laughed.  "  You  will  answer  admirably,"  she  said, 
"and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  must  do." 

She  opened  a  door  from  which  a  path  led  to  a  little 
grove  at  a  short  distance,  and  Dunworth  placed  the  easel 
near  it,  replacing  the  canvas  by  a  drawing-board. 

"  Now/'  said  she  to  Procter,  "  you  must  run  down  that 
path  until  I  call  to  you  to  stop,  and  then  you  must  try  to 
maintain  the  position  you  happen  to  be  in,  as  nearly  as 
you  can." 

When  Ardis  had  taken  her  seat  and  was  ready  to  sketch, 
she  gave  her  impatient  model  permission  to  start.  In- 
stantly his  heavy  shoes  beat  rapidly  on  the  path,  and  if 
she  had  not  quickly  called  to  him  he  would  have  been  out 
of  sight  among  the  trees. 

Prouter  stopped  at  the  word,  one  foot  in  the  air,  and 
his  body  well  forward. 

"Oh,  you  can't  stand  that  way!  "  cried  Ardis. 

"Yes,  I  can!"  shouted  the  model  without  turning  his 
head.  "  You  can  go  on  and  put  me  into  your  picture." 

"  His  arms  are  too  close  to  his  side,"  remarked  Ardis 
to  Dunworth. 

"  Like  a  professional  runner,"  replied  the  latter. 

Thereupon  Ardis  called  to  her  model  to  extend  his 
arms  somewhat  as  if  he  were  flying  in  terror,  but  before 
he  could  arrange  himself  to  suit  her,  down  came  his  up- 
raised foot,  and  he  stood  upright. 

"  Can't  keep  it  up,"  he  said,  turning  round.  "  I  didn't 
know  how  hard  it  was.  Shall  have  to  try  it  over  again, 
and  stop  on  a  better  balance." 

Prouter  now  came  back  and  prepared  for  a  second  run. 
Ardis  instructed  him  to  stop  at  the  proper  distance,  with 
one  foot  and  the  toes  of  the  other  on  the  ground,  as  the 


38  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

extended  leg  could  easily  be  raised  when  she  transferred 
the  sketch  to  the  canvas. 

After  a  few  suggestions  from  Ardis,  Prouter's  new  posi- 
tion was  pronounced  a  success,  and  she  began  to  draw. 

"Don't  hurry  yourself!"  the  model  shouted.  "I  am 
good  for  all  day  now!  " 

Ardis  was  not  a  rapid  sketcher,  and  worked  carefully 
and  thoughtfully.  Dunworth  took  a  seat  near  her,  watch- 
ing her,  but  not  her  work ;  and  as  he  looked  upon  her  his 
heart  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  this  handsome  girl,  whose 
large  dark  eyes  gazed  out  over  the  sunlit  path  and  then 
came  back  with  quiet  earnestness  to  the  white  paper  be- 
fore her;  each  movement  giving  them  a  fresh  beauty. 
The  blood  of  the  young  man  began  to  warm,  his  eyes  to 
brighten.  His  purpose  to  speak  his  mind  to  Ardis  pressed 
strongly  upon  him.  He  had  intended  to  speak  in  a  week, 
or  perhaps  two  weeks,  or  in  a  month,  whenever  he  thought 
the  proper  time  had  come.  But  now  his  purpose  pressed 
him  very  hard.  With  but  an  instant's  premeditation,  he 
spoke  to  her: 

"Ardis,"  he  said,  "you  must  know  how  I  love  you. 
Will  you  be  my  wife?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered  quietly,  still  proceeding  with  her 
drawing.  "  And  why  do  you  say  such  a  thing  to  me  at 
this  time?" 

"  Simply  because  I  could  not  help  it,"  said  Roger. 
"And  tell  me,"  he  continued  earnestly,  grasping  at  the 
hope  thus  held  out,  "  may  I  speak  later ;  at  a  better  time  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  answered  quickly.  "  I  can  tell  you  now  as 
well  as  at  any  other  time  that  I  do  not  wish  to  marry  you. 
Mr.  Prouter,  will  you  please  hold  your  right  arm  a  little 
higher?  You  should  not  ask  a  girl  who  has  her  own  ideas 
of  life-work,  and  is  trying  hard  to  carry  them  out,  and  to 
whom  new  purposes  are  coming  all  the  time,  and  who  is 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  39 

really  just  beginning  life,  to  drop  all  her  aims  and  aspira- 
tions and  marry  you." 

"  Ardis,"  he  said,  "you  need  not  give  up  anything." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  she  answered,  taking  up  a  fresh 
piece  of  charcoal,  "  and  I  say  again,  I  do  not  wish  to 
marry." 

"  Do  you  mean  by  that,"  said  Roger,  "  that  you  do  not 
wish  to  marry  any  one?  " 

"Exactly,"  she  answered,  "that  is  what  I  mean." 

"  And  then,"  he  asked,  in  a  low  voice,  but  with  vehem- 
ence, "  if  you  should  change  your  mind,  would  I  have  as 
good  a  chance  as  any  one?  " 

"  There  are  no  chances  for  any  one,"  she  said. 

"  Then  I  stand  on  as  good  a  footing  as  any  other  man?  " 
he  persisted. 

"With  no  footing  at  all,"  she  answered,  "you  are  as 
well  off  as  any  other  man." 

"Then  I  may  be  your  friend  as  I  have  always  been?  " 
said  Roger. 

"  Precisely,  as  you  have  always  been,"  replied  Ardis. 
"  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  continue  to  be  that.  Mr. 
Prouter5  "  she  called  out,  "  that  will  do!  Will  you  please 
come  in  now?"  And,  as  her  model  came  skipping  back 
she  said  to  him,  "  I  thank  you  very  much  indeed,  and  I 
think  I  have  made  a  good  study  of  a  retreating  figure." 

Roger  arose,  and  in  his  heart  he  said :  "  If  she  expects 
to  sketch  me  in  that  position  she  is  mistaken." 

"Capital!"  cried  Prouter,  regarding  the  sketch  with 
glowing  admiration ;  "  I  did  not  know  I  was  such  a  good 
runner!  I  will  come  and  stand  for  you  whenever  you 
want  me  to.  I  have  nothing  to  do." 

"  It  is  a  great  pity,"  said  Ardis,  "  that  you  have  nothing 
to  do.  But  I  need  not  call  on  you  again,  as  I  can  go  now 
without  a  model." 


40  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

When  the  three  returned  to  the  house  the  young  men 
prepared  to  depart.  Major  Claverden  invited  them  to 
stay  to  supper,  but  Dunworth,  who  was  not  a  man  of 
leisure,  declined;  and  Prouter  felt  compelled  to  follow 
his  example. 

"  Mr.  Dunworth,"  said  the  young  Englishman  as  he  was 
about  to  mount  into  his  dog-cart,  "  I  think  I  will  go  home 
with  you  and  spend  the  night.  It  is  a  long  time  since  I 
have  seen  the  boys,  and  I  want  to  have  a  talk  with  them." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  you  do  so,"  said  Dun- 
worth,  "  but  you  must  take  me  into  your  cart,  and  my 
horse  can  follow  behind." 

"  All  right !  "  cried  Prouter,  as  Roger,  with  his  bridle  in 
his  hand,  got  into  the  lofty  vehicle,  "  and  if  your  horse 
doesn't  step  out  lively,  Jerry  will  pull  his  head  off!  " 

"  The  danger  is,"  said  Roger,  "  that  he  may  run  over  us." 

"We  shall  see  about  that!  "  cried  Prouter  with  a  crack 
of  his  whip. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  41 


CHAPTER  IV. 

WHEN  Prouter  and  Dunworth  arrived  at  the  house  of 
the  latter,  they  perceived  the  three  students  of 
husbandry  sitting  on  a  bench  which  was  made  of  a  wide 
plank  fastened  between  the  trunks  of  two  trees  in  a  shady 
side  yard.  Their  day's  work  was  done,  and  each  of  them 
was  smoking  a  short,  brown  pipe.  Prouter  jumped  to  the 
ground  and  ran  to  greet  his  countrymen ;  and  Dunworth, 
when  he  had  given  the  horses  in  charge  of  a  servant,  went 
into  the  house. 

"  How  are  you,  Parchester?  How  are  you,  Skitt?  How 
are  you,  Cruppledean  ?  "  cried  Prouter,  shaking  each  by 
the  hand,  as,  in  turn,  they  arose  from  the  bench.  "  It  is 
a  fortnight  since  I  have  seen  you." 

"  Really?  "  said  Parchester,  "  I  did  not  think  it  was  so 
long." 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Skitt. 

And  Cruppledean,  the  tallest  member  of  the  trio,  re- 
sumed his  seat  upon  the  bench  without  a  word. 

These  pupils  of  Dunworth  were  young  men  of  good 
education  and  belonged  to  English  families  of  respecta- 
bility, but  as  they  had  come  to  Virginia  to  learn  to  work 
like  farmers  they  considered  it  their  duty  to  conform  their 
dress  to  their  idea  of  the  farm  laborer.  They  wore  coarse 
flannel  shirts  and  their  abraded  corduroy  trousers  were 
tucked  into  high-topped  boots.  Prouter  took  his  seat  on 
the  bench,  Parchester  moving  a  little  nearer  to  Skitt  in 
order  to  make  room  for  him,  and  drew  from  his  pockets 
a  short,  brown  pipe  and  a  bag  of  tobacco. 


42  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"Time  for  a  puff  before  supper?  "  he  said,  while  filling 
his  pipe. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Parchester. 

And  Prouter,  having  lighted  his  pipe  with  a  brimstone 
match  skilfully  protected  from  the  wind  in  the  hollow  of 
one  hand,  joined  in  the  puffing  of  the  others. 

"Any  news  from  home?"  asked  Skitt,  removing  his 
pipe  for  a  moment. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Prouter,  pulling  from  the  pocket  of  his 
shooting  jacket  a  copy  of  the  weekly  London  "  Times," 
now  twelve  days  old,  and  handing  it  to  Skitt,  "  Here  is 
the  latest,  and  I  have  got  the  '  Illustrated  News '  under 
the  cushion  of  my  cart.  Til  leave  them  here,  for  I  have 
read  them." 

Skitt  opened  the  paper  and  began  to  scan  the  news 
columns.  These  youths  never  looked  at  an  American 
journal,  and  for  their  knowledge  of  current  events  de- 
pended entirely  upon  hearsay  or  the  English  papers. 

Now  the  sound  of  a  bell  was  heard  inside  the  house, 
and  the  four  young  men  arose  from  the  bench,  knocked 
out  the  contents  of  their  pipes,  slipped  the  warm  bowls 
into  their  pockets,  and  went  in  to  supper. 

The  meal  was  not  entirely  an  out-and-out  American 
one,  Dunworth  having  introduced  the  English  modification 
of  large  bowls  of  warm  milk  for  his  pupils  in  place  of  the 
cold  lacteal  fluid  found  on  every  Virginian  supper-table ; 
but  there  was  a  great  dish  of  broiled  ham,  a  smoking  pone 
of  cornmeal,  hot  wheat  bread  of  various  kinds,  cold  bread 
and  toast,  coffee  for  the  host,  and  tea  for  the  others. 

The  conversation  during  the  meal  was  animated,  and 
was  principally  upon  agricultural  subjects,  mingled  with 
some  talk  about  horses,  and  more  about  dogs.  It  was 
noticeable,  however,  that  the  tall  man,  Cruppledean,  had 
very  little  to  say. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  43 

After  supper  they  all  went  out  to  the  porch,  where  they 
disposed  themselves,  some  on  chairs  and  some  on  the 
steps,  to  have  a  smoke.  Prouter,  however,  had  not  given 
three  puffs  before  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"By  jingo!"  he  cried.  "I  forgot  the  sugar  and  the 
rest  of  the  grocery  stuff  that  Mrs.  Quantrill  asked  me  to 
fetch  to  her/' 

"  Did  she  want  any  of  them  for  supper?  "  asked  Skitt. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  know,"  said  Prouter,  "  but  their 
supper  is  over  and  done,  and  there  is  no  use  talking  about 
it  now."  And  down  he  sat. 

"And  how  about  the  time-table  for  Miss  Airpenny?" 
asked  Dunworth. 

For  a  moment  Prouter's  face  assumed  a  blank  expres- 
sion, and  then  it  began  to  glow  again.  "  Let  that  go  in 
with  the  sugar,"  he  said.  "  She  can't  have  it  to-night, 
and  there's  the  end  of  it!  But  I  will  take  it  to  her  to- 
morrow morning,  long  before  she  ought  to  start  for  any- 
where." 

"And  a  jolly  time  she  will  have  of  it  to-night,"  said 
Skitt,  "  through  not  knowing  when  she  is  to  start  on  her 
journey  to-morrow." 

"Anyway,"  said  Prouter,  "it's  lots  better  to  forget  I 
ought  to  go  home,  than  to  go  home  and  forget  the  errand ; 
so  I  am  that  much  to  the  good,  anyway." 

"Where  is  the  old  lady  going?  "  asked  Parchester. 

"  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  Prouter.  "  She  has 
been  talking  of  Afghanistan,  and  as  she  has  been  almost 
everywhere  else  it's  as  like  as  not  she  is  going  there." 

"Does  she  travel  alone?"  asked  Dunworth. 

"  I  should  say  co !  "  cried  Prouter.  "  There  is  not  a 
sane  person  living  who  would  travel  with  her!  And  she 
doesn't  want  them  either.  She  is  able  to  take  care  of 
herself,  and  when  she  can't  get  a  conveyance  she  walks. 


44  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

I  told  her  she  ought  to  have  a  tricycle,  and  she  turned  on 
me  with  a  snap,  and  said  that  as  long  as  she  had  two  legs 
she  did  not  care  for  three  wheels." 

"  I  should  like  to  have  a  better  acquaintance  with  Miss 
Airpenny,"  said  Dunworth,  rising.  "  She  must  be  a  good 
sort  of  woman." 

"  She  is  that,"  said  Prouter,  "  if  you  get  on  the  right 
side  of  her,  which  I  must  say  has  not  commonly  been  my 
luck." 

Dunworth  soon  retired  to  a  room  on  the  first  floor  which 
had  been  his  father's  library  and  study,  and  was  now  de- 
voted strictly  to  his  own  private  use.  He  did  not  light 
the  lamp  upon  the  table,  but  seated  himself  in  an  arm- 
chair by  the  open  window,  and  gave  himself  up  to  think- 
ing. 

Of  course  his  thoughts  were  upon  Ardis.  She  and  her 
words  had  been  present  to  him  ever  since  he  had  spoken 
to  her  in  her  studio,  but  until  that  quiet  hour  he  had  not 
been  able  to  give  up  his  mind  entirely  to  her.  Now  he 
so  gave  it  up.  His  ideas  came  to  him  in  no  order.  He 
thought  of  Ardis  as  a  woman  he  must  love,  whatever  hap- 
pened, but  he  also  thought  of  many  things  which  must 
happen  if  his  life  were  to  be  a  true  and  happy  one.  There 
came  to  him  visions  of  existence  with  Ardis  in  contrast 
with  the  life  he  now  lived.  There  came  to  him  many 
visions  of  what  he  would  do  for  Ardis,  and  what  Ardis 
would  do  for  him,  and  although  most  of  these  were  the 
bright  fancies  of  a  lover,  others  were  the  ideas  of  a  man 
given  to  sound  thinking. 

He  did  not  believe  in  Ardis's  aims  or  purposes.  He 
had  known  her  so  long  and  he  had  known  her  so  well,  that 
he  was  perfectly  aware  that  it  was  necessary  for  her  ardent 
nature  to  exercise  its  energies  upon  some  engrossing  ob- 
ject. That  object  was  now  the  pursuit  of  art.  He  be- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  45 

lieved  that  some  day  it  would  be  the  love  of  a  husband 
and  the  happiness  of  a  home.  That  he  should  be  that 
husband  and  that  that  home  should  be  his  home,  was  all 
in  all  to  Roger  Dunworth. 

As  to  his  chances  he  felt  a  quiet  encouragement.  She 
had  given  no  reason  for  declining  his  offer  except  that  she 
did  not  wish  to  marry  anybody.  This  was  reasonable 
enough.  She  was  yet  young,  and  very  many  things  were 
occupying  her  mind ;  time  might  be  trusted  to  make  room 
in  that  mind  for  love.  And,  again,  she  had  made  no  ob- 
jection to  him  personally,  and  had  even  told  him  that  his 
chances  of  winning  her  were  as  good  as  those  of  anybody 
else.  On  the  whole  he  was  fairly  satisfied. 

"  I  have  told  her  that  I  love  her,"  he  said  to  himself, 
"  and  I  have  no  reason  to  believe  that  any  other  man  has 
done  this.  Say  what  she  may,  she  cannot  forget  my 
words,  and  the  remembrance  of  them  must  have  its  in- 
fluence." 

With  this  he  arose.  A  clock  in  the  room  was  striking 
ten.  He  went  out  to  the  front  of  the  house  to  look  for 
his  visitor,  but  could  see  no  one.  This  gave  him  no  con- 
cern, as  his  pupils  could  be  safely  trusted  to  entertain 
Prouter  in  whatever  way  he  wished  to  be  entertained. 
And  thereupon  Dunworth  went  to  bed. 

When  the  four  young  Englishmen  had  been  left  to 
themselves,  Skitt  remarked  that  it  was  a  beautiful  moon- 
light night,  and  that  it  would  be  a  capital  notion  to  go 
down  to  the  fence  at  the  foot  of  the  lawn,  and  sit  there 
and  have  asmoke;  at  the  same  time  enjoying  the  beauty 
of  the  scene  which  would  be  spread  out  before  them.  To 
this  proposition  all  agreed,  and  they  betook  themselves 
to  the  fence.  When  they  were  well  seated  on  the  flat  top 
of  the  broad  fence,  and  had  begun  on  their  freshly  lighted 
pipes,  Prouter  exclaimed :  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you, 


46  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Cruppledean?  You  have  hardly  spoken  a  word  since  I 
came  here.1' 

"  Nothing  is  the  matter,"  said  Cruppledean,  shortly. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  ails  him,"  said  Skitt.  "  He  wants  to 
fight." 

"  Fight!  "  cried  Prouter.  "  Who  does  he  want  to  fight 
with?" 

"  With  the  governor,"  said  Skitt. 

"  Do  you  mean  Mr.  Dunworth?  " 

"Yes,  that's  the  man,"  was  the  reply. 

"And  what  have  you  got  against  him,  Cruppledean?  " 
asked  Prouter.  "  What  has  he  done  to  you?  " 

"  I  haven't  anything  against  him,"  said  Cruppledean, 
"and  he  hasn't  done  anything  to  me.  You  don't  sup- 
pose I  would  stand  that,  do  you?  What  I  want  is  to 
know  which  is  the  better  man." 

"And  what  is  the  good  of  that?  "  asked  Prouter  vehe- 
mently. "  Your  governor  is  a  good  enough  man  in  many 
ways,  and  you  are  good  enough  in  many  ways.  What  is 
the  sense  of  fighting  to  find  out  which  is  the  better  in  that 
way?" 

"  I  don't  want  to  work  under  any  man,"  said  Crupple- 
dean, "without  knowing  whether  he  is  the  better  man  or 
I  am.  That  sort  of  thing  is  against  nature,  and  I  won't 
stand  it!" 

"Stuff  and  nonsense!  "  cried  Prouter. 

"  No,  it  isn't  stuff  and  nonsense !  "  asserted  Cruppledean 
with  animation.  "  Here  are  Parchester  and  Skitt ;  they 
are  under  his  size  and  under  his  weight;  they  know  he 
is  a  better  man  than  either  of  them;  and  so  they  are  sat- 
isfied. But  it  is  different  with  me.  I  am  nearly  as  tall 
as  the  governor,  and  quite  as  heavy,  and  I  am  not  going 
to  stand  round  like  a  milksop,  without  knowing  whether 
he  is  the  better  man  or  I  am." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  47 

"Look  here,  Cruppledean,"  cried  Prouter,  "you  let 
Dunworth  alone.  He  is  a  good  fellow,  but  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  cares  about  sparring,  and  if  you  try  to  get  up  a 
match  with  him  it  will  make  trouble.  And  you  are  mis- 
taken about  height  and  weight  settling  the  question  as  to 
which  of  two  men  is  the  better.  Do  you  think  that  Dun- 
worth  is  a  better  man  than  I  am?  " 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Cruppledean. 

"Very  well,  then,"  replied  Prouter,  "we  can  settle  your 
point  without  troubling  him.  Just  step  out  in  some  open 
place  in  the  moonlight,  and  we  will  have  a  few  rounds." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Cruppledean,  getting  down  from  the 
fence.  "  That  will  settle  it  one  way,  but  if  I  am  better 
than  you  are  that  leaves  his  affair  still  unsettled." 

"  Come  along,"  said  Prouter,  vigorously  striding  off  to 
a  smooth  place  in  a  field  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill. 

Here  they  had  a  few  rounds  in  the  bright  light  of  the 
moon,  Parchester  and  Skitt  active  as  seconds.  Cruppledean 
was  taller  and  stronger  than  his  antagonist,  with  great  ad- 
vantages in  length  of  "  reach,"  but  Prouter,  who  was  an  ad- 
mirable boxer,  was  so  quick  and  lively  that  he  got  in  as 
many  "good  ones"  as  did  the  taller  man. 

After  a  very  moderate  amount  of  this  work  the  seconds 
interfered  and  declared  the  affair  a  drawn  fight,  and  that 
one  man  was  as  good  as  the  other.  The  principals  there- 
upon put  on  their  coats  and  shook  hands  with  the  utmost 
friendliness.  Both  bore  evidences  of  being  somewhat 
jarred  by  the  encounter,  but  Cruppledean's  spirits  were 
decidedly  improved. 

"Are  you  satisfied  now?"  asked  Prouter. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other,  "  the  thing  looks  clearer  to  me, 
and  I  know  where  I  stand.  It  does  not  do  for  a  fellow  to 
be  uncertain  about  these  points.  It  weighs  on  his  mind. 
Now,  I  should  say  that  Dunworth  and  I  are  about  even." 


48  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Good!  "  cried  Prouter.  "  I  am  glad  that  is  all  straight- 
ened out  And  now  let  us  go  up  to  the  house  and  have 
a  smoke." 

The  party  was  quietly  puffing  away  on  the  steps  of  the 
porch  when  Parchester  suddenly  rose  to  his  feet.  "  What 
is  that  light  out  there  on  the  mountain?  "  he  exclaimed. 

Each  man  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  out  in  the  direc- 
tion indicated.  About  half  a  mile  away  was  a  wide  stretch 
of  rising  ground  which  attained  considerable  elevation  at 
its  summit.  This  formed  part  of  Dunworth's  farm,  and 
was  known  as  "the  mountain."  The  upper  part  was 
heavily  wooded,  and  among  the  nearer  trees  a  light  could 
be  seen  moving. 

"  What  does  anybody  want  of  a  lantern  on  a  bright 
night  like  this?  "  said  Skitt. 

"  It  is  likely  to  be  some  one  hunting  'coons,"  said  Par- 
Chester. 

"And  if  it  is,"  said  Cruppledean,  "  he  hasn't  any  right 
to  do  it." 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Prouter.  "Does  Dunworth 
preserve  his  'coons?  " 

"  Can't  say,"  answered  Cruppledean,  "  but  I  know  he 
does  not  allow  the  darkeys  to  hunt  "coons  on  his  place 
without  permission." 

"Is  this  the  season  for  'coons?  "  asked  Prouter. 

"Can't  say,"  answered  Cruppledean,  "but  there's  the 
light,  and  you  may  be  sure  some  sort  of  mischief  is  up." 

"  Let's  go  after  them!  "  said  Skitt. 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  the  others. 

And  each  man  knocked  out  his  ashes  and  pocketed  his 
pipe.  Skitt  hurried  through  the  open  front  door  and 
quickly  returned  with  three  heavy  blackthorn  sticks  be- 
longing to  himself  and  his  comrades,  and  a  loaded  riding- 
whip  which  he  gave  to  Prouter.  Then  the  four  dashed 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


49 


off,  cleared  a  fence,  and  made  straight  across  the  fields 
toward  the  mountain.  Each  man  ran  at  the  top  of  his 
speed,  but  Cruppledean's  long  legs  carried  him  a  little 
ahead  of  the  others. 

When  they  reached  the  rising  ground  they  separated  so 
as  to  strike  the  woods  at  different  points,  and  thus  cut  off 
the  retreat  of  the  miscreants.  The  light  could  now  be 
plainly  seen  some  distance  away  among  the  trees.  Crup- 
pledean  plunged  through  the  underbrush  to  the  north  of 
the  light;  Parchester  and  Skitt  rushed  this  way  and  that 
among  the  trees,  keeping  somewhat  to  the  south,  while 
Prouter  made  a  straightaway  dash  directly  toward  the 
light.  In  spite  of  the  bright  moonlight  it  was  almost  dark 
in  the  woods,  and  the  young  men  found  it  difficult  to 
avoid  the  trees  and  the  other  objects  in  their  way,  but 
they  pressed  on  with  surprising  rapidity  considering  the 
circumstances,  each  firmly  grasping  his  weapon  and  fired 
with  the  ardor  of  pursuit. 

Prouter  was  fortunate  enough  to  strike  a  wood  roady 
evidently  the  course  taken  by  the  persons  carrying  the 
light ;  and  running  along  this,  he  soon  came  upon  a  little 
group  composed  of  an  old  negro  and  two  half-grown  boys. 
The  old  man  carried  a  light-wood  torch,  and  all  three  stood 
still,  quaking  in  their  much-worn  shoes  at  the  sound  of 
pursuers  crashing  toward  them,  apparently  from  all  quar- 
ters. 

"Lor'  bress  my  soul !  "  cried  the  old  man,  as  Prouter 
plunged  at  him  with  upraised  whip.  "  Wot's  de  matter, 
sah?  Wot  you  gwine  do?  "  And  the  three  negroes  scut- 
tled back  against  the  trunk  of  a  great  tree. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  cried  Prouter,  still 
brandishing  his  whip.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  coming 
here  to  hunt  'coons?  " 

"  Bress  your  soul,  sah !  "  exclaimed  the  man.  "  I's 
4 


50  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

huntin1  no  'coons !  I  come  heah  to  look  f er  my  black  hog 
wot  git  away  dis  mawnin'." 

At  this  moment  Cruppledean  came  up,  and  Parchester 
and  Skitt  quickly  appeared.  With  upraised  cudgels  the 
party  surrounded  the  negroes,  the  torch  throwing  the  only 
light  upon  the  scene. 

"  He  says  he  is  looking  for  his  hog,"  said  Prouter. 

"  Gammon!  "  cried  Cruppledean.  "  It  must  be  nearly 
twelve  o'clock.  A  pretty  time  to  be  looking  for  a  hog!  " 

"  But  I  tell  you,  sah,"  said  the  old  man,  "  I  done  begin 
to  look  fer  him  as  soon  as  I  got  froo  my  work.  I  tell  you, 
sah,  it  takes  a  long  time  to  look  fer  a  hog  when  he  gits 
away  in  de  mawnin'." 

"  I  bet  five  to  three,  and  make  it  shillings,"  said  Par- 
chester, "that  he  is  after  'coons." 

"  Bress  your  soul,  sah,"  said  the  negro,  turning  to  him, 
"  who  wants  'coons  or  'possums,  airy  one,  when  dey  ain't 
fat  yit?  An'  whar's  de  axe  or  de  dogs  I  got  to  hunt  'em 
wid?" 

"Do  they  hunt 'coons  with  axes  and  dogs?"  asked 
Prouter. 

"  Yes,"  said  Cruppledean,  "  I  have  heard  they  do." 

Prouter  and  the  pupils  now  stood  and  looked  at  the 
negroes,  the  two  boys  crouching  behind  their  father  as  if 
they  expected  at  any  moment  to  get  a  rap  over  the  head. 

"  Well,  then,"  presently  remarked  Skitt,  "  if  he  really  is 
looking  for  his  hog  we  may  as  well  let  him  go  on  and  look 
for  it." 

"  Which  I  most  sart'inly  is,  sah,"  said  the  man. 

"  But  look  here,"  said  Prouter,  "  if  you  do  come  into 
this  wood  looking  for  hogs,  don't  you  look  for  them  as  if 
you  were  hunting  'coons.  Do  you  hear  that?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,"  said  the  man. 

And  as  there  now  seemed  nothing  more  for  them  to  do, 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  5! 

the  four  self-constituted  keepers  turned  to  depart.  The 
negro  politely  preceded  them  with  his  torch  to  light  them 
out  of  the  woods ;  and  when  they  reached  the  open  each 
young  man  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  and  tipped  the 
torch-bearer. 

"If  it  wasn't  so  late,"  said  Cruppledean,  "we  would  go 
with  you  and  help  you  hunt  your  hog." 

"  Much  obliged,  sah,  but  I  reckon  you'd  skeer  him  wuss 
dan  you'd  ketch  him." 

The  party  walked  gayly  down  the  declivity  and  over  the 
fields,  and  when  they  reached  the  house  they  sat  down  to 
resume  the  smoke  which  had  been  interrupted.  When 
this  was  finished  they  went  in-doors,  and  Skitt,  who  was 
a  careful  man,  shut  the  front  door  after  him.  They  went 
into  the  dining-room,  where  a  light  was  burning,  and 
Cruppledean  produced  a  bottle  of  spirits,  apologizing  to 
Prouter  for  not  having  any  hot  water;  it  being  so  late  of 
course  the  kitchen  fire  was  out.  Parchester  produced 
some  hard  biscuit  and  cheese  from  the  sideboard;  and 
each  man  having  mixed  his  drink  to  suit  himself,  they 
partook  of  a  light  supper. 

Cruppledean  now  proposed  that  they  should  go  out  on 
the  porch  and  have  a  smoke,  but  Parchester  declared 
that  if  they  intended  to  work  the  next  day  they  must  go 
to  bed.  And  this  being  generally  agreed  to  they  took 
lamps  and  went  up-stairs.  Cruppledean  and  Skitt  occu- 
pied a  large  bedroom,  and  across  the  hall  was  Parchester's 
room  with  a  spare  bed  in  it  for  Prouter. 

Cruppledean  seated  himself  by  the  open  window  of  his 
room  to  have  a  smoke,  and  Skitt  went  to  bed.  In  the 
other  room  Prouter,  his  coat  off  and  one  shoe  in  his  hand, 
sat  for  some  minutes  immersed  in  thought. 

"  Parchester,"  he  said,  "  come  into  Skitt's  room.  I  have 
something  I  want  to  say  to  all  of  you." 


52  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

And  unevenly  clumping  across  the  hall,  he  seated  him- 
self on  a  corner  of  the  table  in  the  other  bedroom. 

"  Fellows,"  said  he,  "  I  have  just  been  making  up  my 
mind.  I  am  going  to  do  something!  " 

"  Then  why  don't  you  go  and  do  it?  "  asked  Skitt,  who 
was  sleepy. 

Disregarding  this  remark,  Prouter  went  on.  "I  am 
the  only  fellow  among  you  who  doesn't  work.  You  all 
work,  Dunworth  works,  the  Quantrills  work,  every  one  of 
them,  and  even  old  Miss  Airpenny  works.  I  don't  do 
anything.  I  just  go  around  with  my  hands  in  my  pockets 
and  look  at  other  people  work.  I  am  going  to  stop  it.  I 
am  ashamed  of  it.  I  began  to  be  ashamed  of  it  yesterday 
when  a  pretty  girl  said  to  me — the  prettiest  girl,  by  the 
way,  I  ever  laid  eyes  on " 

"Who  was  it?"  asked  Skitt, with  awakening  animation. 

"  Miss  Claverden,"  said  Prouter. 

"You  are  right  there!"  exclaimed  Parchester,  while 
the  now  awakened  Skitt  offered  to  bet  his  head  on  the 
fact,  and  even  Cruppledean  gave  an  affirmative  nod. 

"She  said  tome,"  continued  Prouter,  "when  I  told  her 
that  I  was  ready  any  day  to  stand  as  a  model  for  her, 
having  nothing  to  do " 

"A  model!  "  cried  Parchester.  "A  pretty  model  you'd 
make!" 

"  Well,  she  only  took  my  back,"  said  Prouter,  "  so  you 
need  not  be  jealous.  And  she  said  to  me  when  I  told  her 
I  had  nothing  to  do,  '  That  is  a  pity ! '  And  ever  since  I 
have  been  thinking  it  is  a  pity.  Now  I  am  going  to  stop 
it!  I  intend  to  work!  " 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?  "  said  Cruppledean. 

"That  is  the  rub,"  said  Prouter,  "or,  at  least,  that  was 
the  rub  until  a  little  while  ago.  Now  I  have  settled  it.  I 
am  going  to  start  a  milk  route." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


53 


The  three  pupils  burst  into  a  roar  of  laughter. 

"  You  needn't  laugh,"  said  Prouter.  "  I  have  got  it  all 
straightened  out  in  my  mind.  It  is  of  no  use  for  me  to 
try  a  farm,  or  to  grow  vines  or  wool,  or  to  go  into  any- 
thing of  that  sort.  I  don't  know  how  and  haven't  time 
to  learn.  But  I  can  manage  a  milk  route  just  as  well  as 
anybody.  I  have  been  watching  a  milk  route  lately,  and 
know  exactly  how  the  thing  is  done.  It  will  be  just  the 
sort  of  business  I  like.  Lively  and  brisk !  Lots  of  cutting 
around  to  see  if  the  cows  are  all  right  and  the  men  at 
their  work,  the  wagons  all  started  off  bright  and  early,  the 
customers  all  satisfied.  I'm  wild  to  get  at  it.  By  jingo! 
I  will  go  down  and  tell  Dunworth !  " 

And  before  his  laughing  friends  could  stop  him  he  had 
clumped  down  the  stairs  to  the  room  on  the  first  floor 
where  the  master  of  the  house  slept,  and  knocked  loudly 
on  the  door.  Dunworth  had  been  asleep  three  or  four 
hours  and  awoke  with  a  start. 

"Hello!"  he  cried. 

Prouter  opened  the  door  and  put  in  his  head. 

"What  is  it?  "  exclaimed  Dunworth,  sitting  up  in  bed. 
" Is  it  fire?" 

The  room  was  but  dimly  lighted  by  the  moon,  but 
Prouter  could  see  that  Dunworth  was  just  about  to  spring 
out  of  bed.  "  No,"  cried  the  young  Englishman,  "  I  am 
going  to  start  a  milk  route." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Dunworth. 

"I  am  going  to  start  a  milk  route,"  repeated  Prouter; 
"and  I  thought  it  mean  to  let  the  other  fellows  know 
without  coming  to  tell  you  too." 

At  this  moment  Dunworth  jumped  heavily  to  the  floor, 
but  before  he  could  reach  the  door  Prouter  shut  it  with  a 
jerk  and  sped  up-stairs,  one  shoe  off  and  one  shoe  on,  and 
his  breast  full  of  merriment  and  rapturous  enthusiasm.  He 


54  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

talked  but  little  more  of  his  plans  because  the  others  in- 
sisted that  he  should  go  to  bed  and  let  them  sleep ;  but 
before  sunrise  the  next  morning  he  had  harnessed  his 
horse  Jerry  to  his  dog-cart  and  had  driven  away  at  top 
speed  to  take  the  sugar  and  grocery  stuff  to  the  Quantrills, 
to  give  the  time-table  to  Miss  Airpenny,  and  to  make  ar- 
rangements for  the  starting  of  his  milk  route. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


55 


CHAPTER   V. 

DR.  LESTER  lived  in  a  small  house  which  stood 
in  the  spacious  yard  of  a  large  house.  The  latter 
building  had  been  partially  burned  years  before,  and  was 
now  uninhabited.  It  belonged  to  m  mbers  of  Dr.  Les- 
ter's family,  and  while  living  in  the  small  house  he  was 
enabled  to  keep  an  eye  upon  the  property.  It  may  also 
be  said  that  it  suited  him  perfectly  to  live  by  himself  in 
this  independent  manner.  About  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
away  was  a  cabin,  in  which  dwelt  an  old  negro  woman 
who  cooked  for  him  and  attended  to  his  house. 

The  doctor  was  a  good  friend  to  all  the  colored  people 
in  the  neighborhood.  They  came  to  him  for  advice  and 
information  and  for  the  solution  of  knotty  points  of  dif- 
ference. Only  in  one  respect  could  they  expect  no  coun- 
sel from  him.  He  would  not  prescribe,  even  for  the  most 
trifling  ailment.  If  anything  was  the  matter  with  their 
bodies  he  would  send  them  to  a  v  octor,  and  he  had  been 
known  in  urgent  cases  to  go  himself  for  a  physician  to 
attend  to  some  suffering  negro.  But  to  a  question  involv- 
ing negro  notions  of  law  and  equity  he  would  give  his 
most  earnest  attention  and  thought;  and  his  decisions 
were  generally  accepted  as  final. 

The  doctor's  house  consisted  of  one  large  room,  with  a 
little  adjoining  chamber  in  which  he  slept.  The  walls  of 
the  large  room  were  lined  with  books,  nearly  all  of  them 
old  and  of  a  standard  character ;  and  specimens  of  min- 
erals, dried  plants,  animals  and  birds  occupied  every  avail- 
able shelf  and  corner.  A  work-bench  stood  at  one  win- 


56  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

dow,  a  turning-lathe  near  by;  and  wherever  there  was 
room  for  them  could  be  seen  little  machines  and  contri- 
vances, or  articles  of  use  arid  ornament,  which  the  doctor 
had  made,  and  which  indicated  an  untiring  industry  joined 
with  skill  and  ingenuity,  but  without  commensurate  aim. 

Dr.  Lester  was  sitting  by  his  open  door  in  a  large 
leathern  arm-chair,  the  cushions  of  which  were  so  worn 
into  hollows  that  they  would  have  been  a  torture  to  any 
one  who  had  not,  like  the  doctor,  learned  to  adapt  himself 
to  their  eccentricities.  Opposite  to  him,  on  a  smaller 
chair,  sat  Bonetti.  Both  were  smoking  pipes  with  long 
reed  stems  and  bowls  made  of  the  red  Powhatan  clay  so 
much  prized  by  Virginians  of  the  older  school.  The  after- 
noon was  bright  and  cheerful ;  the  doctor  was  glad  to  have 
some  one  drop  in  on  him ;  and  Bonetti  was  in  his  usual 
good-humor.  But  now  for  some  minutes  neither  had 
spoken  a  word.  Bonetti  much  desired  to  talk  about  Miss 
Claverden,  and  to  find  out  what  the  doctor  had  said,  done, 
or  thought  in  the  direction  of  that  young  lady  since  he 
had  last  seen  him.  But  there  were  times  when  the  doctor 
did  not  care  to  talk  upon  this  subject,  and  as  this  might 
be  one  of  those  times  Bonetti  hesitated  about  broaching 
his  questions. 

Suddenly  he  started.  "Ho!"  he  cried,  "here  she 
comes ! " 

"Who?"  asked  the  doctor,  looking  quickly  toward  the 
door. 

"  Miss  Ardis,"  said  Bonetti.  "  She  is  coming  down  the 
road  in  the  open  carriage  with  the  bay  horses,  and  George 
is  driving  with  his  high-top  hat  on.  She  is  coming  in  style." 

The  doctor  gave  one  look  outside,  then  sprang  to  his 
feet,  put  down  his  pipe,  and  stepping  to  a  small  looking- 
glass,  swiftly  combed  his  somewhat  rumpled  hair,  brushed 
the  collar  of  his  coat,  and  approached  the  door. 


ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 


57 


"Where  are  you  going?  "  said  Bonetti. 

"  I  shall  speak  to  her  as  she  passes,"  said  the  doctor. 

Bonetti  also  put  down  his  pipe  and  went  out,  but  to  the 
surprise  of  the  two  men  the  carriage  did  not  pass.  It 
turned  into  the  grass-grown  drive-way  at  the  other  end  of 
the  yard,  and  sweeping  past  the  ruined  house,  stopped 
before  the  doctor's  door. 

Miss  Ardis  sat  alone  in  the  carriage.  She  was  hand- 
somely dressed  in  a  costume  which  would  have  been  suited 
to  a  round  of  city  calls,  but  with  some  of  that  additional 
touch  of  the  picturesque  which  is  allowable  in  the  coun- 
try. She  carried  a  large,  light-colored  parasol,  and  on  her 
face  was  a  smile  of  friendly  greeting. 

"  How  do  you  do,  doctor?  "  she  said,  extending  her  hand. 

The  doctor  gently  enveloped  the  little  tan-colored  glove 
in  his  large,  sinewy  hand.  His  bare  head  was  bowed  a 
little  as  if  he  had  been  momentarily  impressed  with  an 
emotion  of  reverence.  Bonetti  stood  a  little  in  the  rear 
of  the  doctor,  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Bonetti?"  said  Ardis  in  the 
same  cheerful,  friendly  tone  in  which  she  had  spoken 
before,  but  she  did  not  extend  her  hand. 

"  Dr.  Lester,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  am  on  my  way  to  the 
Dalrymple  place,  and  I  have  stopped  here  to  ask  a  favor 
of  you." 

"  The  thing  shall  be  done,  Miss  Ardis,"  said  the  doctor, 
"whatever  it  may  be." 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  little  sparkle  in  her  eye. 
*' Never  smoke  again!  "  she  said  solemnly. 

The  doctor  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  on  Bonetti's  face 
there  came  a  look  of  astonishment;  but  before  either  of 
them  could  speak  Ardis  laughed  and  said:  "Don't  be 
frightened,  doctor.  That  was  merely  to  show  you  how,  if 
I  chose,  I  could  punish  you  for  making  such  rash  promises/' 


58  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  trust  so  implicitly  to  your  generosity  and  justice, 
Miss  Ardis,  that  I  am  not  afraid  to  make  a  blind  promise 
to  you." 

"  Take  my  advice,"  said  she,  "  and  never  trust  anybody 
so  far  as  that.  And  now  for  my  business.  Father  has 
invited  a  gentleman  to  come  and  stay  at  our  house  for 
some  days ;  indeed,  I  don't  know  for  how  long.  Father 
will  take  care  of  him  sometimes,  of  course,  but  I  don't 
believe  our  visitor  cares  very  much  for  grapevines  or 
farming,  and  I  am  afraid  that  time  will  hang  heavy  on  his 
hands.  I  want  the  gentlemen  of  the  neighborhood  to  call 
on  him,  and  especially  you,  doctor,  for  you  can  help  ever  so 
much  to  make  his  time  pass  pleasantly.  And  I  may  send 
him  to  you,  Mr.  Bonetti,  if  he  needs  a  guide  and  adviser 
in  any  out-door  explorations." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  do  anything  I  can  for  a  friend  of 
yours,  Miss  Ardis,"  said  Bonetti. 

"  Is  the  gentleman  a  middle-aged  man  or  a  young 
one?"  asked  the  doctor. 

"  He  is  moderately  young,"  said  Ardis. 

"  Is  he  a  city  man?  "  he  asked. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "but  I  know  he  likes  the  country,  and 
has  travelled  almost  everywhere,  I  believe.  He  is  Mr. 
Surrey,  of  Washington.  Will  you  not  ask  some  of  the 
gentlemen  to  call  on  him — I  know  he  is  fond  of  company — 
Mr.  Dunworth,  for  instance,  and  those  young  Englishmen 
who  are  at  his  house  ?  They  are  very  pleasant  young  men." 

"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  speak  to  Dunworth  about 
that,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  am  sure  he  is  at  your  service 
in  every  way." 

"  But  I  don't  care  to  go  about  the  country,"  said  Ardis, 
with  a  laugh,  "  asking  young  men  to  come  to  see  another 
young  man.  I  wish  you  would  mention  the  matter  to 
Mr.  Dunworth  some  time  soon." 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN. 


59 


"Of  course  I  will  do  that,  Miss  Ardis,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, "  but  it  seems  to  me  it  is  not  such  a  very  long  time 
ago  since  I  saw  you  ride  at  full  gallop  up  to  Dunworth's 
door,  with  your  two  dogs  after  you,  and  invite  him  and 
everybody  else  to  Bald  Hill  to  supper  and  a  dance  after- 
ward." 

"  Your  memory  goes  back  more  years  than  you  sup- 
pose," said  Ardis,  laughing.  "  That  sort  of  thing  may 
have  been,  but  it  is  not.  Haven't  you  noticed  that  people 
sometimes  grow  older,  doctor?  Now,  I  may  depend  on 
you  to  help  us  entertain  Mr.  Surrey,  may  I  not?  " 

"  You  may  always  depend  upon  me,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Thank  you  ever  so  much,"  said  Ardis ;  and  with  a 
farewell  smile  and  nod  which  included  them  both,  she 
drove  away. 

The  doctor  stood  silent,  his  eyes  on  the  swiftly  depart- 
ing carriage. 

"Suppose,"  said  Bonetti,  reflectively,  "she  were  to  say 
to  you:  'There  are  a  number  of  persons  who  are  trying 
to  marry  me,  and  if  any  one  of  them  succeeds,  misery 
will  come  upon  me.  You  are  the  only  one  who  can  pro- 
tect me  from  this  danger.  If  you  will  marry  me,  I  am 
safe.'  What  would  you  say  in  such  a  case?  " 

"  Bonnet,"  cried  the  doctor,  "  if  you  had  lived  in  the 
Middle  Ages  they  would  have  made  you  a  mental  tor- 
turer !  How  dare  you  rack  me  in  that  way — and  at  this 
moment,  too?" 

"  I  merely  wanted  to  know,"  said  Bonetti,  "  if  there  was 
anything  that  would  make  you  let  go  your  resolution ;  but 
if  you  are  not  prepared  to  answer,  no  matter.  It  seems 
to  me  that  she  has  not  given  you  a  very  agreeable  piece 
of  business." 

"Agreeable!  "  exclaimed  the  doctor,  "  I  should  say  not! 
It  would  suit  me  much  better  to  make  it  unpleasant  for  a 


60  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

young  city  man  coming  into  these  parts  than  to  make  him 
want  to  stay." 

"  But  you  are  going  to  make  it  pleasant  for  him?  "  said 
the  other. 

"Bonnet,"  replied  Dr.  Lester,  "if  she  were  to  ask  me 
to  sit  on  a  hot  rock  and  bake  batter-cakes  for  Apollyon, 
I  would  do  it!  But  I  don't  pretend  to  say  that  I  would 
like  it." 

As  Bonetti  walked  slowly  homeward,  about  half  an  hour 
afterward,  he  said  to  himself:  "  I  have  made  supposes 
about  most  of  the  fixes  that  Dr.  Lester  could  get  him- 
self into  concerning  this  matter,  but  there  is  one  thing  that 
I  haven't  worked  up  yet,  and  that  is  what  will  happen 
when  Miss  Ardis  finds  out  how  Dr.  Lester  thinks  about 
her.  She  hasn't  the  least  notion  of  it  now ;  that's  as  plain 
as  daylight.  And  the  main  point  of  the  matter  is,  not  so 
much  what  she  will  do  when  she  finds  it  out,  as  what  he 
will  do  when  she  has  done  what  she  will  do  when  she  finds 
it  out."  And  pondering  on  this  question,  the  philoso- 
phizer  pursued  his  leisurely  way. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  61 


CHAPTER   VI. 

WHEN  Ardis  Claverden  had  driven  away  from  Dr. 
Lesters  door,  and  had  reached  the  high  road,  she 
leaned  forward  to  her  coachman  and  said:  "  George,  those 
horses  have  been  doing  nothing  for  two  days.  Now,  don't 
let  them  loiter  on  the  road!  " 

George  was  a  dashing  coachman  as  well  as  a  skilful 
one,  and  for  that  reason  his  position  in  the  Bald  Hill  es- 
tablishment was  secure.  Sympathizing  thoroughly  with 
the  liking  of  his  young  mistress  for  rapid  motion,  he 
touched  up  his  two  bays;  both  animals  of  good  blood, 
raised,  broken,  and  trained  on  the  Bald  Hill  farm.  They 
did  not  loiter,  but  with  swift  strides  sped  over  the  road. 
Bowling  over  the  smooth  stretches ;  dashing  up  the  hills 
with  a  strong,  hard  trot,  but  pulling  up  to  a  slower  pace 
on  the  descents ;  cautiously  and  skilfully  passing  over  the 
stony  spots,  but  not  always  with  slackened  speed;  with 
his  horses  tossing  their  heads  in  their  enjoyment  of  their 
free,  swift  motion,  George  drew  up  at  the  Dalrymple 
house  before  even  Ardis  thought  there  had  been  time  to 
get  there. 

Ardis  was  but  slightly  acquainted  with  this  family,  but 
they  were  new-comers  and  she  was  very  willing  to  be  civil 
to  them  and,  should  there  be  reason  for  it,  to  be  friendly 
with  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mrs.  Dalrymple  disliked  Ardis,  or, 
as  she  would  have  put  it,  disapproved  of  her.  She  con- 
sidered her  manner  of  life  as  entirely  too  independent  for 
a  young  girl.  She  thought  Miss  Claverden  should  have 


62  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

an  elderly  lady  to  live  in  the  house  and  chaperone  her. 
She  did  not  think  a  young  woman  should  be  driving 
around  the  country  by  herself,  and  although  she  knew  of 
nothing  unseemly  that  Ardis  had  ever  done,  except  allow- 
ing her  coachman  to  dash  up  a  driveway  at  an  improper 
rate  of  speed,  she  felt  assured  that  an  independent  young 
woman  who  would  do  such  an  unseemly  thing  would  do  a 
great  many  other  unseemly  things. 

Miss  Dalrymple  could  not  make  up  her  mind  whether 
she  disliked  Ardis  or  envied  her.  There  were  often  times 
when  she  would  have  liked  to  do  as  she  pleased,  but  there 
were  also  times  when  she  looked  with  aversion  upon  people 
who  did  as  they  pleased.  Should  she  ever  decide  to  imi- 
tate Ardis,  she  would  probably  be  a  blind  follower  of  her 
as  far  as  circumstances  would  allow,  but  should  she  decide 
to  disapprove  of  her,  her  disapproval  would  be  very  strong. 
At  present  Miss  Cecilia  Dalrymple  did  not  wish  to  com- 
mit herself  in  any  way,  and  her  few  remarks  did  not  add 
to  the  interest  of  the  conversation. 

Mr.  Dalrymple  liked  Ardis.  When  he  returned  from 
the  call  at  Bald  Hill  he  spoke  very  highly  of  her.  He  said 
he  thought  she  was  a  fine,  spirited  girl,  of  remarkably 
pleasant  manners,  and  very  handsome,  and  he  thought  it 
might  be  a  very  good  thing  for  Cecilia  if  the  two  were  to 
become  friends.  But  these  remarks  had  no  influence,  or 
at  least  no  favorable  influence,  on  the  opinions  of  his  wife 
and  daughter ;  and  as  he  was  not  at  home  that  afternoon, 
his  good  opinion  of  Ardis  was  of  no  advantage  in  making 
her  call  a  pleasant  one. 

"  Did  you  not  say  the  other  day,"  remarked  Ardis  to 
Mrs.  Dalrymple,  "  that  you  have  a  son  whom  you  expect 
here  shortly?" 

Mrs.  Dalrymple  opened  her  eyes  and  hardened  her 
mouth.  She  would  have  glanced  at  her  daughter,  but 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  63 

Ardis  was  looking  at  her.  "  Yes,"  said  she,  "  I  have  a 
son,  and  we  expect  him  in  a  few  days." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Ardis,  "  because  there  is  to 
be  a  gentleman  at  our  house  who,  I  fear,  will  find  the 
place  very  dull.  We  shall  be  so  glad  if  your  son  will  call 
upon  him.  It  would  be  difficult  to  regulate  the  etiquette 
in  such  a  case,  I  suppose.  Father  visits  very  little,  and  it 
is  scarcely  to  be  expected  that  he  should  call  on  a  young 
man,  and  of  course  there  is  no  one  else  in  our  house  to 
do  it." 

"I  should  say  not,"  remarked  Mrs.  Dalrymple,  very 
decidedly. 

"But  out  here  in  the  country,"  continued  Ardis,  "we 
get  over  those  things  in  as  easy  and  as  friendly  a  way  as 
possible;  and  if  your  son  should  ride  down  and  see 
father  and  Mr.  Surrey,  I  am  sure  they  would  both  be  de- 
lighted." 

Mrs.  Dalrymple  made  no  promises  for  her  son.  She 
thanked  Ardis  and  passed  to  another  subject. 

When  the  visitor  arose  the  two  ladies  accompanied  her 
to  the  door;  and  as  the  carriage  drove  away  Mrs.  Dal- 
rymple looked  after  it  and  remarked:  "I  hope  I  shall 
never  see  you,  Cecilia,  driving  about  the  country  by  your- 
self in  that  way!  " 

At  that  moment  Cecilia  was  thinking  that  it  would  be 
the  most  delightful  thing  in  the  world  to  sit  alone  in  a 
carriage  like  that,  and  be  driven  wherever  she  wanted  to 
go,  and  just  as  fast  as  she  wanted  to  go. 

"And  never  in  my  life,"  continued  Mrs.  Dalrymple, 
"  did  I  hear  anything  as  barefaced  as  that  girl's  speech ! 
Actually  to  ask  me  to  send  my  son  to  see  her!  I  wouldn't 
have  expected  that,  even  of  Miss  Ardis  Claverden ! " 

Cecilia's  mind  was  on  the  point  of  revolving,  but  the 
influence  of  the  carriage  was  still  strong  upon  her.  "  I 


64  A RDIS  CLA  VERDEN. 

don't  suppose  that  Egbert  would  care  for  a  girl  like  that," 
she  said,  abstractedly. 

As  Ardis  drove  away  the  air  seemed  pleasanter  to  her, 
the  sky  brighter  above  her  than  she  had  remembered  it  as 
she  drove  toward  the  house.  She  did  not  know  that  Mrs. 
Dalrymple  did  not  like  her,  or  that  Miss  Dalrymple  was 
in  doubt  about  her,  but  the  sense  of  relief  which  came 
upon  her  as  she  left  them,  although  she  did  not  recognize 
its  true  nature,  was  agreeable  to  her. 

"  Now  I  will  go  to  Heatherley,"  she  said  to  George. 

A  drive  of  about  three  miles,  the  last  portion  of  which 
was  on  a  private  road  through  pasture  land,  brought  them 
to  a  large  house  which  stood  well  in  upon  its  own  do- 
main. This  was  the  homestead  of  the  Crantons,  a  family 
of  large  size  and  extensive  ramifications.  The  house  had 
once  been  in  better  condition ;  the  family  had  once  been 
richer ;  but  there  was  an  air  of  life  and  movement  about 
the  place  which  made  it  much  more  interesting  and  at- 
tractive than  many  of  the  better  houses  of  richer  people. 
There  were  dogs  on  the  porch  and  dogs  wandering  here 
and  there  around  the  house.  A  flock  of  turkeys  scattered 
themselves  over  the  lawn,  which  sloped  by  several  natural 
terraces  down  to  a  little  stream  or  "branch."  Some 
colts  scampered  through  the  apple  orchard  which  stretched 
itself  around  three  sides  of  the  house.  Little  darky 
children  sat  playing  on  the  grass.  A  large  negro  girl, 
holding  in  her  arms  a  very  little  one,  stood  gazing  at  the 
new-comers.  At  a  cluster  of  log-cabins,  a  short  distance 
from  the  house,  colored  women  were  coming  and  going. 
Two  stout  negro  boys  were  cutting  wood.  On  a  grassy 
road  by  the  branch  a  long  line  of  cows  were  coming  in 
from  pasture,  a  small  boy  in  the  rear  cracking  a  home- 
made whip.  A  heavy  farm  wagon,  laden  with  great  logs 
of  wood  and  drawn  by  four  horses,  with  a  colored  man 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEX.  65 

on  the  near  wheeler,  bestriding  a  brass-mounted  army 
saddle  and  wearing  enormous  high  boots,  came  creaking 
up  toward  the  wood-cutters.  Altogether,  the  place  much 
resembled  a  Southern  farm  of  the  olden  time. 

Ardis  ran  up  the  steps  of  the  porch,  patting  the  heads 
of  two  or  three  dogs  as  she  did  so,  while  George  drove 
over  to  the  cabins  to  have  a  chat  with  his  friends  and, 
possibly,  relatives.  There  was  nobody  in  the  great  hall ; 
nobody  in  the  parlor,  the  door  of  which  stood  wide  open ; 
nobody  in  the  dining-room,  and  nobody  on  the  stairs. 
But  Ardis,  who  felt  perfectly  at  home,  knew  where  to  go 
to  look  for  her  particular  friend  Norma,  whom  especially 
she  had  come  to  see. 

Norma  Cranton  was  the  housekeeping  daughter  of  the 
family,  and  Ardis's  intimate  acquaintance  with  her  dis- 
position and  habits  prompted  her  to  make  her  way  di- 
rectly to  the  store-room.  In  this  large,  well-filled  room 
she  found  Norma,  a  long  apron  reaching  from  her  chin  to 
her  toes,  and  her  plump  face  a  little  dappled  with  flour, 
sitting  before  a  small  table  on  which  were  spice  boxes 
and  a  cookery  book.  Norma  was  short,  somewhat  stoutly 
built,  with  a  pleasing  face,  a  genial  nature,  and  passion- 
ately fond  of  Ardis.  She  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  forget- 
ting the  existence  of  such  a  thing  as  flour,  kissed  her 
visitor  again  and  again.  The  colored  woman  who  was  as- 
sisting Norma  brought  a  chair  for  Ardis,  and  then  de- 
parted, knowing  that  work  for  the  present  was  sus- 
pended. 

"  What  I  particularly  came  for,"  said  Ardis,  presently, 
"  is  to  ask  you  to  come  and  spend  a  few  days  with  me,  or 
perhaps  a  week,  or  it  may  be  even  longer." 

"Now?"  asked  Norma. 

"  Yes ;  to-morrow." 

"Simply  impossible,"  said  Norma.  "To-morrow  I 
5 


66  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEX. 

begin  to  preserve  peaches.  I  have  bushels  of  them  all 
ready.  Why  do  you  want  me  now?  " 

"  Father  has  invited  a  gentleman  to  come  and  stay  at 
our  house,"  said  Ardis.  "  It  was  a  most  unexpected  thing 
to  me.  This  gentleman,  Mr.  Surrey.  I  met  last  winter  at 
Aunt  Mabel's,  'in  Washington,  and  the  other  day  he  wrote 
to  me  that  he  was  coming  to  Bolton  for  a  few  days  and 
asked  permission  to  call  on  me.  I  mentioned  the  matter 
to  father  and  he  immediately  sat  down  and  wrote  to  Mr. 
Surrey,  inviting  him  to  stay  at  our  house  during  his  sojourn 
in  this  neighborhood.  The  fact  that  he  was  a  friend  of 
his  sister  Mabel  was  enough  for  father.  Of  course  I  was 
dreadfully  disturbed  when  I  heard  that  the  letter  had  gone, 
but  there  was  no  help  for  it  then,  and  I  said  nothing  about 
it.  Father  interferes  so  little  in  the  management  of  these 
things  that  I  could  not  bear  to  find  fault  with  him  for  this." 

"  Is  he  a  young  man?  "  asked  Norma. 

"Well,  he  is  not  exactly  a  young  man,"  said  Ardis, 
"  but  I  don't  believe  he  is  thirty.  He  has  been  married 
once,  and  his  wife  soon  died  and  left  him  with  a  little 
son,  now  four  years  old.  There  is  something  very  odd 
about  this,  for  the  child  is  rich,  the  property  coming  from 
the  mother's  family,  while  Mr.  Surrey  has  no  money  to 
speak  of.  He  has  not  even  the  care  of  his  boy." 

"  How  did  that  come  about?  "  asked  Norma. 

"Aunt  Mabel  told  me  the  story,  but  I  don't  remember 
it  exactly,"  said  Ardis.  "  But  the  point  is  that  a  grand- 
father made  a  will  by  which  Mr.  Surrey  was  not  to  have 
anything  to  do  with  the  boy's  money  or  the  child  himself. 
And  of  course  Mr.  Surrey  had  to  agree  to  that  or  else 
keep  his  son  out  of  a  fortune." 

"  I  wouldn't  have  given  up  one  of  my  sons  for  any  for- 
tune !  "  said  Norma.  "And  if  this  gentleman  is  a  widower, 
I  suppose  your  father  thinks  him  an  elderly  man." 


ARD1S  CLATERDEN.  67 

"  I  have  no  doubt  of  it,"  said  Ardis,  "  though  I  never 
thought  of  that  before.  But  I  do  know  that  he  expects 
Mr.  Surrey  to  be  his  visitor,  and  I  am  sure  he  will  find 
that  he  is  mistaken.  That  man,  I  am  sure,  prefers  the 
society  of  young  people  to  that  of  his  elders,  and  it  will 
simply  end  in  his  being  thrown  on  my  hands." 

"Is  he  good-looking?"  asked  Norma. 

"  In  a  certain  way,  yes,"  said  Ardis.  "  He  is  rather  too 
florid,  and  somewhat  inclined  to  be  heavy ;  but  he  is  very 
bright  and  lively  and  full  of  fun,  and  that  often  makes 
him  look  handsomer  than  he  really  is." 

"And  how  long  is  he  going  to  stay?  "  said  Norma. 

"  I  really  do  not  know — certainly  a  few  days ;  but  father 
will  keep  him  with  us  as  long  as  he  is  down  here.  He 
comes  on  business,  I  think.  But,  as  I  told  you,  Norma, 
I  know  very  well  that  he  is  not  going  to  be  father's  visitor ; 
and  so  I  have  asked  Dr.  Lester  to  come  to  see  him  and 
to  get  some  of  the  young  men  of  the  neighborhood  to 
drop  in.  Will  not  your  brother  Curtis  come?  " 

"  My  dear  Ardis,"  cried  Norma,  "  you  know  Curtis  is 
so  bashful  that  if  you  were  to  ask  him  to  call  on  a  gay  city 
gentleman,  he  would  betake  himself  to  the  woods  and  stay 
there." 

"Curtis  or  no  Curtis,  I  intend  to  have  Norma,"  said 
Ardis. 

"But,  Ardis,"  exclaimed  Norma,  "you  see  how  I  am 
situated.  To-morrow  I  must  go  to  work  at  my  peaches, 
and  the  next  day  there  will  be  ever  so  much  that  will  have 
to  be  straightened  out.  The  day  after  that  I  might  go  to 
you,  perhaps,  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  Norma,"  said  Ardis,  "  Mr.  Surrey  is  coming  the  day 
after  to-morrow.  I  want  you  in  the  house  with  me  when 
he  arrives." 

"  But,  Ardis " 


68  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN. 

"  No  buts,"  said  Ardis.  "  Everything  shall  be  arranged. 
I  shall  stay  here  and  help  you  with  your  peaches.  I  will 
go  now  and  send  George  home  with  a  message  to  father 
that  I  am  to  be  sent  for  to-morrow  evening,  and  that  I 
shall  take  you  to  Bald  Hill  with  me.  We  will  get  up  very 
early  to-morrow  morning;  you  shall  lend  me  one  of  your 
old  dresses,  and  those  peaches  shall  all  be  in  their  jars 
and  everything  shall  be  straightened  up  in  time  for  us 
two  to  get  to  Bald  Hill  to  supper." 

And  without  waiting  to  hear  her  friend's  remarks  on 
this  arrangement,  Ardis  ran  out  to  send  George  and  the 
carriage  home. 

Very  early  the  next  morning  the  two  girls  were  up  and 
at  work;  Ardis  in  a  blue-spotted  calico  gown,  somewhat 
too  short  and  a  good  deal  too  wide  for  her,  and  with  a 
white  apron  fastened  up  under  her  chin.  All  the  colored 
assistance  which  could  be  conveniently  employed  was 
called  in,  and  throughout  the  morning  and  a  portion  of 
the  afternoon  the  paring,  the  stoning,  the  cutting,  the  boil- 
ing, the  bubbling,  the  sweetening,  the  tasting,  the  dipping, 
the  pouring,  and  the  talk  went  on.  Ardis  lent  a  hand  to 
everything,  but  besides  the  work  she  did  herself  she  found 
time  to  make  others  work  as  they  had  never  worked  before. 
She  would  even  run  out  to  hasten  the  motions  of  the  boys 
who  were  cutting  the  wood  which  the  great  stove  so  stead- 
ily devoured. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  everything  was  fin- 
ished except  a  few  little  matters  of  "  straightening  out " 
which  Norm  a  could  very  well  attend  to  by  herself,  and 
Ardis,  heated  and  quite  satiated  with  the  smell  of  cooking 
peaches,  went  out  into  the  air  and  took  a  seat  on  the 
shaded  front  porch.  She  had  been  sitting  here  but  a  few 
minutes  when  a  white  boy  mounted  on  a  large,  fine  horse 
rode  up  to  the  house. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  69 

"Is  Mr.  Curtis  in?"  he  asked. 

"  No,"  said  Ardis,  "  he  is  out  at  work  on  the  lowlands." 

"  Is  any  of  the  men  here?  "  said  the  boy. 

"  They  are  all  out  with  Mr.  Curtis.  I  know  that  he 
took  every  one  of  them." 

"  Is  Harrison  Cranton  here?  "  asked  the  boy. 

"  No,"  said  Ardis,  with  a  smile,  "  even  Harrison  has 
gone  with  his  brother.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for 
you?" 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy,  with  a  doleful  expression. 
"  One  of  the  young  steers  that  was  just  bought  has  got 
away  and  is  going  home  just  as  fast  as  he  can,  and  Tom 
Harris  put  me  on  this  horse  and  told  me  to  go  after  him. 
But  the  steer,  he  keeps  a-runnin'  and  I  can't  get  ahead  of 
him  with  this  horse." 

"Are  you  afraid  of  the  horse?  "  asked  Ardis. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  him  when  he  walks,  but  when  I 
make  him  go  fast  he  charges,  and  when  he  charges  he 
skeers  me,  so  I  just  turned  him  in  here,  reckonin'  Mr. 
Curtis  was  home." 

"And  you  thought  if  Mr.  Curtis  were  here  he  would  get 
on  the  horse  and  head  off  the  steer  for  you?  "  asked  Ardis. 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy.  "  He  wouldn't  care  if 
the  horse  charged  all  he  had  a  mind  to." 

Ardis  came  forward  to  the  steps  and  looked  at  the 
horse.  He  was  a  magnificent  animal.  She  had  been 
shut  up  all  day  in  a  hot  and  stifling  room.  "  Wait  one 
minute,"  she  said  to  the  boy,  "and  everything  shall  be 
made  right  for  you."  And  with  this  she  went  into  the 
house  and  ran  up-siairs. 

In  one  of  the  rooms  she  found  an  old  riding-skirt  be- 
longing to  Norma.  This  she  quickly  slipped  on,  and  from 
the  room  of  the  boy  Harrison  she  took  a  pair  of  his  top 
boots,  which  she  found  fitted  her  very  well.  She  dashed 


70  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN-. 

into  her  room,  got  her  gloves,  and  ran  down-stairs.  She 
took  a  soft  felt  hat  from  the  rack,  put  it  on,  and  went  out 
to  the  boy. 

"  I  will  ride  your  horse  and  go  after  the  steer,"  she  said. 
"  I  feel  just  like  taking  a  good  gallop!  " 

"O  ma'am,"  cried  the  boy,  "this  isn't  the  kind  of 
horse  for  a  lady  to  ride !  " 

"Any  kind  of  a  horse  is  the  kind  for  me  to  ride,"  said 
Ardis,  going  down  the  steps,  "  except  a  poor  one.  Now 
get  down,  and  I  will  hold  him  while  you  run  to  the  car- 
riage-house and  bring  that  side-saddle  that  you  will  see 
hanging  on  a  peg  close  to  the  door." 

The  boy  looked  astonished,  but  got  down.  "  He'll  run 
away  with  you,"  he  said  deprecatingly,  as  his  feet  touched 
the  ground. 

"I'll  attend  to  that!  "  said  Ardis.  "And  you  be  quick, 
or  your  steer  will  get  entirely  away." 

The  boy  ran  to  the  carriage-house  and  soon  returned 
with  the  saddle.  Under  Ardis's  directions  he  quickly  put 
it  on  the  horse,  in  place  of  the  one  on  which  he  had  rid- 
den, and  then,  having  carefully  examined  the  girth  and 
the  stirrup,  she  prepared  to  mount.  "  Lead  him  up  here!  " 
she  said,  as  she  stood  on  one  of  the  porch  steps.  But  the 
horse  tossed  his  head  and  refused  to  turn  around  so  that 
she  could  reach  him. 

"  Go  on  that  side  of  him,  and  give  him  a  good  smack!  " 
said  Ardis. 

The  boy,  half-frightened  at  his  own  presumption,  gave 
the  horse  a  "  smack,"  and  the  animal  moving  with  a  start 
toward  the  steps,  Ardis  laid  hold  of  the  pommel  and 
sprang  into  the  saddle.  Quickly  giving  herself  a  firm 
seat,  she  took  the  bridle  from  the  boy,  and  with  a  little 
help  from  him  she  put  her  foot  in  the  stirrup.  The 
horse  wheeled  around  as  soon  as  the  boy  released  the 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDE X.  71 

bridle,  and  Ardis  called  out:  "Oh,  I  forgot  the  whip! 
Run  in  and  get  me  one  from  the  rack,  please! " 

"Oh,  you  mustn't  hit  him !"  exclaimed  the  boy.  "If 
you  hit  him  he'll  jump  right  out  of  his  skin!  " 

"  I  will  hit  him  just  hard  enough  to  make  him  jump 
nearly  out  of  his  skin,  but  not  quite,"  said  Ardis.  "  Get 
me  the  whip! " 

The  boy  said  no  more,  but  brought  her  a  heavy  riding- 
whip  which  belonged  to  Mr.  Curtis. 

"  It  is  too  big,"  said  she,  "  but  no  matter.  Which  way 
did  your  steer  go?" 

"  He's  gone  up  the  road,  and  if  he  finds  a  break  in  the 
fence  he'll  cut  across  the  fields  and  git  into  the  woods, 
and  if  he  does  that  we'll  never  ketch  him.  He'll  go 
straight  through  to  Page  County,  where  he  was  raised." 

"  Take  your  saddle  dbwn  to  the  gate,"  said  Ardis,  "  and 
wait  for  m*  there." 

At  first  the  horse  appeared  inclined  to  be  dissatisfied 
with  his  rider.  He  danced  sidewise  and  made  one  or  two 
revolutions,  but  a  sharp  tap  on  the  flank  and  a  firm  hand 
on  the  bit  soon  brought  him  to  his  senses,  and  he  started 
off  on  a  quick  trot.  Out  on  the  high  road  Ardis  could 
see  nothing  of  the  fugitive  steer,  but  urging  her  horse  into 
a  gallop  she  soon  caught  sight  of  the  animal  far  up  the 
road. 

A  dash  of  a  few  minutes  brought  the  sound  of  her 
horse's  hoofs  to  the  ears  of  the  young  steer.  He  threw 
up  his  head  and  broke  into  a  wild  run.  Not  far  ahead 
was  a  turn  in  the  road,  and  there  a  gate  into  a  field  stood 
open.  This  field  was  a  wide  hillside  of  coarse  grass  and 
sassafras  bushes,  intersected  here  and  there  by  deep 
gullies.  Directly  toward  the  nearest  of  these  the  steer 
made  his  way,  plunged  down  into  it,  and  bounded  up  on 
the  other  side.  When  Ardis  reached  it  he  was  rapidly 


72  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

making  his  way  diagonally  across  the  hillside  toward  a 
stretch  of  forest  land  half  a  mile  away. 

The  horse  was  now  thoroughly  excited.  Had  not  Ardis 
held  him  strongly  back  he  would  have  dashed  into  the 
gully;  it  was  too  wide  for  him  to  leap;  but  Ardis  knew 
that  where  young  cattle  may  safely  scramble,  horses  may 
come  to  grief,  and  turning  her  steed  she  made  for  the 
head  of  the  gully.  She  now  saw  that  a  rough  cart-track 
led  from  the  gate  through  which  she  had  passed  by  a  wide, 
circuitous  bend  around  the  heads  of  several  gullies  up  to 
an  opening  in  the  woods,  where  there  was  probably  a 
roadway  through  the  forest.  To  this  opening  the  steer 
was  evidently  directing  his  course,  and  if  he  got  into  the 
narrow  road  Ardis  might  despair  of  being  able  to  head 
him  off.  But  although  the  distance  by  the  cart-track  was 
greater  than  that  which  the  steer  would  travel,  Ardis  knew 
that  it  would  be  better  for  her  to  follow  it  than  to  en- 
deavor to  cross  the  gullies. 

She  put  the  horse  to  the  top  of  his  speed  and  dashed 
up  the  road.  There  was  no  need  of  urging  that  animal. 
Once  on  fire  with  the  consciousness  that  he  could  go  as 
fast  as  he  pleased,  he  thundered  over  the  ground.  Never 
before  had  Ardis  had  such  a  horse  beneath  her!  She 
could  feel  the  swift  play  of  his  powerful  muscles ;  his  hot 
breath  flew  past  her ;  her  own  blood  was  hot  in  her  veins ; 
it  seemed  as  if  she  herself  were  making  those  tremendous 
bounds ;  as  if  she  were  a  wild,  free,  powerful  being,  rush- 
ing through  the  sparkling  air. 

Her  own  riding-mare  was  a  fine  animal,  speedy  and 
true,  but  this  fellow  was  a  king  of  horses,  and  his  blood 
was  up. 

The  steer  was  within  fifty  yards  of  the  woods  when 
Ardis  rounded  the  last  gully.  The  runaway  animal  saw 
his  opportunity,  and  was  galloping  madly.  Ardis  leaned 


ARDIS  CLAVE RDEN. 


73 


forward  and  shouted  to  her  horse,  who,  throwing  all  his 
fire,  all  his  mighty  strength,  into  one  wild  burst  of  speed, 
rushed  at  the  opening,  almost  brushed  the  steer,  and 
dashed  past  him.  Three  lengths  within  the  roadway,  shut 
in  on  each  side  by  heavy  timber  and  underbrush,  Ardis 
brought  him  up  and  whirled  him  round,  his  hoofs  striking 
fire  from  the  loose  stones  and  his  haunches  crushing  into 
the  brushwood.  A  low  bough  took  off  her  hat,  but  she 
did  not  know  it,  nor  that  the  heel  of  her  boot  had  scratched 
the  bark  from  a  tree.  The  steer  was  before  her,  about 
to  rush  past  her.  Urging  her  horse,  trembling  and  tramp- 
ing with  excitement,  directly  upon  the  wild-eyed  creature, 
she  leaned  forward,  brandishing  her  whip  in  the  face  of 
the  steer  until  the  animal  snorted,  backed,  and  then  turned 
and  rushed  out  of  the  woods. 

Ardis  was  instantly  after  him.  She  had  him  now  in  her 
power.  Her  horse  could  move  more  swiftly  than  he 
could,  and  whenever  the  steer  made  a  dash  toward  the 
woods,  Ardis  interposed  herself  and  her  whip.  Presently 
the  steer  stopped,  Ardis  charged  upon  him,  and  he  set 
off  down  the  cart-track  on  a  trot.  Once  or  twice  he  veered 
toward  the  gullies,  but  Ardis  kept  close  to  him  and  turned 
him  to  the  way  he  should  go,  and,  at  last,  fixing  his  eyes 
on  the  open  gateway  he  galloped  toward  it,  and  out  of  it. 

Of  course  the  steer  turned  the  wrong  way  and  went  up 
the  road,  but  Ardis  rode  out  of  the  gate,  and,  without  dis- 
mounting, closed  and  latched  it.  Then  she  galloped  after 
the  steer,  and  as  he  had  but  little  start  of  her  she  soon 
passed  him  and  turned  him.  Now  patting  the  neck,  and 
quieting  down  the  fierce  excitement  of  the  grand  animal 
she  rode,  she  drove  the  steer  back  to  Heatherley. 

Ardis  found  the  boy  sitting  on  the  gate-post.  He  re- 
ceived her  with  an  air  of  subdued  admiration.  Springing 
to  the  ground,  she  said:  "You  can  change  the  saddles 


74  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

here  and  leave  this  one  at  the  gate.  I  will  send  for  it. 
Do  you  think  you  can  drive  the  steer  home  now?  He 
must  be  tired  of  running." 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy,  "  I  can  make  him  go 
ahead  no'v.  But  where's  your  hat,  ma'am?  " 

Ardis  put  her  hand  to  her  head.  "  I  have  lost  it,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  really  did  not  miss  it.  And  now  you  tell 
Tom  Harris  not  to  put  you  on  such  a  horse  as  that  again. 
By-the-way,  where  is  Tom  Harris  working  now?" 

"  He  is  working  for  Mr.  Dunworth,"  said  the  boy. 

"Is  that  Mr.  Dunworth's  horse?  "  exclaimed  Ardis. 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"And  that  his  steer?" 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

Ardis  looked  at  the  boy.  A  little  frown  succeeded  by 
a  li  tie  smile  appeared  upon  her  face ;  and  without  further 
remark  she  walked  to  the  house. 

"Ardis,"  said  Norma  to  her  friend  with  the  bright  eyes 
and  glowing  cheeks,  "  it  doesn't  matter  in  the  least  about 
the  hat;  I  don't  know  who  it  belonged  to  and  it  will 
never  be  missed,  for  there  are  always  hats  enough  and  to 
spare,  and  as  for  the  skirt,  it  was  an  old  one  anyway  and 
those  places  can  easily  be  mended ;  but  there  was  not  the 
least  necessity  for  your  going  after  that  runaway  creature." 

"Necessity!  Of  course  not!"  said  Ardis.  "I  wanted 
a  bit  of  wild  exhilaration  to  take  away  the  smell  of  cooked 
peaches ;  and  I  assure  you,  Norma,  it  took  it  away." 

"I  wonder  what  Mr.  Surrey  would  have  said,"  re- 
marked Norma,  "  if  he  could  have  seen  you  riding  after 
cattle  in  that  style !  " 

"Mr.  Surrey!"  exclaimed  Ardis,  "I  give  myself  no 
concern  about  what  he  thinks  or  says." 

If  there  was  a  slight  emphasis  on  the  word  he,  Norma 
did  not  perceive  it. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


75 


CHAPTER   VII. 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  Norma  Cranton  was 
sitting  in  the  library  at  Bald  Hill.  She  was  busily 
engaged  upon  a  piece  of  most  deliberate  handiwork  by 
which  a  rural  scene  was  evolved  in  minute  stitches  upon 
a  piece  of  linen.  At  a  table  near  by  sat  Major  Claverden, 
reading  a  book  of  old  plays.  Suddenly  he  exclaimed :  |j 

"  Upon  my  word !  would  you  believe  that  the  poet  Gray 
was  a  plagiarist?" 

"  No,"  cried  Norma,  looking  up  suddenly  with  a  flush 
upon  her  face,  "  I  would  not  believe  anything  of  the  kind." 

"  Well,  then,  listen  to  this,"  said  he.  "  Here  in  the  Epi- 
logue to  the  play  of  '  Every  One  Has  His  Fault,'  by  Mrs. 
Inchbald,  is  this  line : 

"  '  Oft  climb  the  knee  the  envied  kiss  to  share.' " 

"  Gray  does  not  use  exactly  those  words  in  his  Elegy," 
said  Norma.  "  He  says : 

u  '  Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share.'  " 

"  But  my  conscience ! "  said  the  major,  "  that's  near 
enough  to  be  the  most  outrageous  plagiarism !  " 

"  When  was  that  play  written  ?  "  asked  Norma,  her  face 
sparkling  with  indignant  loyalty. 

Major  Claverden  turned  back  to  the  title  page.     "  It 
was  published  in  1795,"  ne  sa^- 

"And  the  poet  Gray  died  in  1771,"  said  Norma.  "  Does 
that  look  much  like  plagiarism  on  his  part?"  And  she 
put  a  series  of  indignant  stitches  into  a  duck's  tail. 

Major  Claverden  looked  severely  at  the  book.     "  It  is 


76  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

plain  to  me,"  he  said,  "  that  M.  P.  Andrews,  Esquire,  who 
wrote  this  Epilogue  was  not  a  gentleman.  If  he  had 
marked  the  line  with  a  quotation,  its  use  would  have 
been  perfectly  proper,  but  now  we  have  no  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  he  did  not  steal  his  other  lines.  But  I  suppose," 
he  continued,  as  he  closed  the  book,  "that  gentlemen 
were  as  scarce  in  those  days  as  they  are  now." 

"  I  do  not  believe  they  were  scarce  in  those  days,"  said 
Norma,  flushing  up  again.  "  That  was  a  gentlemanly  age." 

"  Well,"  said  the  major  with  a  smile,  "  we  will  not  dis- 
cuss the  manners  or  morals  of  that  period." 

Notwithstanding  this  remark,  Norma  was  about  to  begin 
a  defence  of  the  morals  and  manners  of  that  period,  when 
a  carriage  from  the  town  drove  up  in  front  of  the  door. 

Major  Claverden  arose  and  looked  through  the  open 
window.  "This  must  be  Mr.  Surrey!"  he  said.  And 
he  hastened  out  of  the  room. 

A  gentleman  attired  in  a  dark-plaid  travelling  suit,  with 
a  light  overcoat  over  his  arm,  had  sprung  out  of  the  car- 
riage before  the  major  appeared  on  the  porch,  and  was 
ordering  the  driver  to  put  down  a  large,  leathern  valise, 
on  the  top  of  which  was  strapped  a  silver-headed  cane  and 
an  umbrella.  The  major  hurried  down  the  steps,  but 
before  he  reached  the  bottom  the  gentleman  stepped 
briskly  toward  him  with  extended  hand. 

"  Delighted  to  see  you,  Major  Claverden,"  he  said. 
"  My  name  is  Surrey." 

As  the  two  men  were  exchanging  the  civilities  common 
upon  such  occasions,  Norma  Cranton  stood  in  the  hallway 
and  observed  the  newcomer.  She  saw  a  man  of  medium 
height,  strongly  built,  with  good  features,  a  lively  expres- 
sion, and  a  heavy,  reddish-brown  moustache.  His  apparel 
was  handsome  and  if  not  of  that  fashion  called  "  loud," 
might,  preserving  the  same  line  of  simile,  be  termed  dis- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  77 

tinct.  A  person  conversant  with  social  demeanors  might 
have  judged  that  Mr.  Surrey  not  only  appeared  to  be  a 
man  of  the  world,  but  desired  to  appear  as  such. 

Norma  was  not  a  judge  of  social  demeanors.  She 
knew  very  little  of  society  except  what  existed  in  her  State 
and  county  at  the  present  day,  or  had  existed  on  the  other 
side  of  the  ocean  in  the  last  century.  She  saw  nothing  in 
Mr.  Surrey  to  which  she  knew  how  to  object,  and  yet  she 
did  not  approve  of  him.  "  I  believe,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"that  he  would  plagiarize  just  as  soon  as  not!"  And 
then  she  went  forward  to  meet  the  gentleman,  who  was 
just  entering  the  door. 

Major  Claverden  presented  Mr.  Surrey  to  Miss  Cran- 
ton,  and  then  inquired  for  his  daughter. 

"  I  will  go  and  find  her,"  said  Norma;  and  she  departed 
with  alacrity. 

Ardis  was  in  her  own  room,  sitting  by  an  open  window, 
reading. 

"Don't  you  know  Mr.  Surrey  is  here?"  exclaimed 
Norma,  as  she  entered. 

Ardis  laid  the  book  in  her  lap  without  closing  it.  "  I 
heard  carriage-wheels,"  she  said,  "and  supposed  he  had 
come." 

"  Then  why  don't  you  go  down?  "  said  Norma. 

"  There  is  no  hurry,"  said  Ardis.  But  she  closed  the 
book  and  werit  down. 

Ardis  welcomed  Mr.  Surrey  with  that  charming  cordial- 
ity which  she  always  showed  to  her  father's  guests.  The 
visitor  was  surprised  as  well  as  delighted  when  he  saw  her. 

"By  George! "  he  said  to  himself,  "she  dresses  as  cor- 
rectly here  in  the  backwoods  as  if  she  were  at  Newport!  " 

That  night,  when  the  family  at  Bald  Hill  had  gone  to 
their  rooms,  Norma  came  and  sat  down  by  Ardis.  Her 
expression  was  very  serious. 


78  ARDIS  CLAl'ERDEN. 

"  There  is  something,"  she  said,  "  of  which  I  feel  posi- 
tively certain,  and  which  I  think  you  ought  to  know,  and 
yet  I  don't  know  whether  to  speak  of  it  to  you  or  not." 

"  If  I  ought  to  know  it,  you  should  tell  it,"  said  Ardis. 

Norma  sat  silent  for  a  moment.  "Very  well,  then," 
she  said,  "  I  will  speak  plainly.  I  have  been  observing 
Mr.  Surrey  very  attentively  this  evening,  especially  his 
manner  of  speaking  to  you  and  looking  at  you ;  and  I  am 
firmly  convinced  that  he  has  no  business  of  any  impor- 
tance whatever  at  Bolton;  and  that  he  came  into  this 
county  on  purpose  to  see  you ;  and,  more  than  that,  that 
he  wants  to  marry  you.  Now,  Ardis,  I  have  spoken  in 
this  candid  way  to  you  because  I  think  you  ought  not  to 
remain  in  ignorance  of  these  things  for  a  single  hour." 

"My  dear  Norma,"  said  Ardis,  with  a  smile,  "I  am 
ever  so  much  obliged  to  you  for  telling  me  this  out  of 
your  good,  kind  heart ;  but  truly,  my  dear,  I  saw  it  all  for 
myself." 

"And  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?  "  asked  Norma. 

"I  shall  do  nothing,"  replied  Ardis.  "It  is  not  my 
affair." 

"But  he  will  make  it  your  affair,"  persisted  Norma. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Ardis,  taking  her  friend's  rosy 
face  between  her  white  hands,  "  I  really  cannot  consent 
to  concern  myself  with  other  people's  ideas  and  fancies. 
And  now  let  us  go  to  bed." 

About  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  Mr.  Jack  Surrey 
was  walking  up  and  down  in  the  shade  of  some  oak  trees 
on  the  lawn  at  Bald  Hill.  He  was  smoking  a  cigarette, 
and  was  in  radiant  good-humor.  This  was  due  partly  to 
his  pleasant  surroundings  and  partly  to  the  fact  that  he 
had  made  up  his  mind.  Mr.  Surrey's  intentions  generally 
resembled  the  erratic  flights  of  fire-flies  upon  a  dark  night. 
To  concentrate  these  intentions  into  a  glow  sufficient  to 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  79 

show  him  what  he  was  going  to  do  was  very  cheering  to 
his  soul. 

In  the  course  of  that  summer  he  had  made  up  his  mind 
to  marry,  and  of  the  available  ladies  of  his  acquaintance 
he  thought  of  none  more  favorably  than  of  Miss  Ardis 
Claverden.  He  had  made  her  acquaintance  during  the 
past  winter  in  Washington,  and  had  seen  her  frequently ; 
and  the  oftener  he  saw  her  the  more  he  admired  her.  But 
he  did  not  feel  altogether  sure  about  her.  She  might  be 
a  very  fine  lady  in  the  city  and  yet  live  in  a  ramshackle 
sort  of  way  in  the  country,  at  home,  which  would  not  at 
all  suit  him.  There  was  a  good  deal  of  that  sort  of  thing 
in  Virginia.  He  had  come  down  to  see  for  himself  how 
the  land  lay,  and  his  good  fortune  had  been  fairly  stun- 
ning. He  had  supposed  he  would  be  invited  to  take  some 
meals  at  the  Claverden  place  and  perhaps  to  spend  a  night 
there,  but  to  be  asked  to  make  Bald  Hill  his  home  during 
his  stay  in  the  neighborhood  was  far  beyond  his  expecta- 
tions. And  Ardis  at  home  was  far  beyond  his  expectations. 

"  By  George ! "  he  said  to  himself  as  he  blew  a  line  of 
smoke  far  out  into  the  morning  air,  "  she  is  more  charm- 
ing here  than  she  is  anywhere  else!  She  is  a  regular 
young  queen ! " 

And  Bald  Hill  as  a  whole  was  satisfactory  to  Mr.  Sur- 
rey. He  was  impressed  by  the  air  of  comfort  and  pros- 
perity about  the  place.  To  be  sure  it  had  none  of  that 
appearance  of  fresh  paint,  sand-papered  grass  and  general 
bandboxism  which  one  sees  in  the  swell  country  places 
near  a  city,  but  there  was  nothing  run-down  here,  no  evi- 
dences of  the  wreck  and  ruin  which  are  supposed  to  be 
the  common  results  of  the  late  war.  It  was  apparently  a 
well-kept  and  well-managed  estate;  and  although  the 
probable  income  from  it,  were  the  owner  residing  in  New 
York,  would  have  allowed  him  to  do  no  more  than  live  in 


80  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

a  modest  way  and  ride  about  in  street-cars,  yet  here,  Mr. 
Surrey  thought,  that  income  enabled  him  to  live  like  a 
prince  in  comparison.  Here  were  plenty  of  horses  raised 
on  the  place  and  costing  little  to  keep ;  plenty  of  servants 
at  wages  that  seemed  to  Mr.  Surrey  like  mere  bagatelles ; 
carriages;  good  living;  plenty  of  room  for  company; 
and,  better  than  all,  only  one  child  to  inherit  the  whole 
thing. 

He  had  just  returned  from  a  walk  to  the  vineyard  with 
Major  Claverden,  who  had  expatiated  fully  on  the  subject 
of  the  wine  of  Bald  Hill.  To  the  words  of  his  host  Mr. 
Surrey  had  listened  with  great  interest.  This  was  some- 
thing gorgeous!  He  had  sipped  Johannisberger ;  and 
what  a  high  old  thing  it  would  be  to  grow  that  glorious 
wine  on  your  own  place !  The  old  gentleman  spoke  like 
a  man  who  is  master  of  his  subject,  and  the  subject  was 
one  of  the  deepest  import  to  Mr.  Surrey.  He  could  see 
no  reason  why  the  finest  juice  in  the  world  should  not  be 
produced  on  this  spot.  The  hardest  part  of  the  work  and 
the  longest  part  of  the  waiting  had  already  been  done. 
It  suited  Mr.  Surrey  to  join  a  race  near  the  finish.  The 
idea  of  one  day  drinking  his  own  Johannisberger,  or  wine 
as  good  as  that,  was  delightfully  stimulating.  He  had 
asked  a  great  many  questions,  and  questions  which  Major 
Claverden  thought  very  practical  and  sensible.  He  had 
even  gone  into  the  subject  of  bottling,  and  the  branding 
of  corks. 

When  they  had  returned  to  the  house  the  major  had  in- 
formed his  daughter  that  Mr.  Surrey  was  the  most  intelli- 
gent and  satisfactory  visitor  he  had  ever  taken  to  his  vine- 
yard. "  He  appreciates  the  value  of  what  I  have  done 
and  what  I  am  going  to  do,  in  a  manner  very  unusual  in 
a  man  who  has  never  devoted  himself  to  the  pursuit  of 
vine-growing.  But  his  mind  is  capable  of  grasping 


AKDIS  CLAVEKDEN.  81 

promptly  every  detail,  and  what  he  does  not  know  he  is 
eager  to  ask.:' 

This  statement  had  greatly  surprised  Ardis.  She  had 
supposed  that  Mr.  Surrey  would  be  bored  to  death  by  a 
vineyard  discourse ;  and  that  if  he  got  through  the  ordeal 
with  politeness  it  would  be  all  that  could  be  expected  of 
him.  His  active  interest  appeared  unnatural  to  her,  and 
she  must  think  about  it.  She  made  no  reply  to  her  father, 
but  went  to  see  what  Norma  was  doing  instead  of  going 
to  see  what  Mr.  Surrey  was  doing,  as  had  been  her  inten- 
tion. 

The  cigarette  having  been  smoked,  Mr.  Surrey  threw 
away  the  end,  and  expanded  his  broad  chest.  He  stopped 
in  his  walk  and  gazed  toward  the  house  with  an  expres- 
sion of  cheery  impatience. 

"  Now  then,  young  lady,"  he  said  almost  aloud,  "  come 
out,  and  be  courted.  If  you  don't  come  I  shall  go  and 
look  for  you.  But  I  prefer  that  you  should  make  your 
appearance  outside." 

At  that  moment  Mr.  Surrey  heard  the  sound  of  horse's 
hoofs  on  the  driveway,  not  far  behind  him.  Turning 
quickly  he  beheld  approaching  Dr.  Lester  on  his  cream- 
colored  horse.  A  smile  came  over  the  face  of  Jack  Surrey. 

"What  gay  old  cock  is  this?  "  he  wondered. 

Dr.  Lester  was  loyal  and  true.  He  had  promised  Miss 
Ardis  that  he  would  call  on  the  visitor  at  her  house ;  and 
at  the  earliest  suitable  moment  he  had  come.  He  would 
have  much  preferred  to  stay  at  home ;  but  he  thought  of 
no  such  thing  as  staying  at  home.  The  moment  he  saw 
the  smiling  gentleman  under  the  trees  he  disliked  him ; 
but  nothing  of  that  feeling  was  shown  in  his  demeanor. 
He  got  down  from  his  horse,  and,  bridle  in  hand,  walked 
over  the  grass. 

"  This  is  Mr.  Surrey,  I  presume,"  he  said.     "  You  must 


82  ARDIS  ZLAVERDEN. 

excuse,  sir,  the  informality  of  my  introducing  myself  in 
this  way,  but  I  am  a  friend  of  the  family,  of  long  standing. 
My  name  is  Lester — Dr.  Lester." 

Mr.  Surrey  begged  that  informality  be  not  mentioned, 
shook  hands  with  the  doctor,  and  said  he  was  glad  to  see 
him. 

"And  now,"  thought  Jack,  "if  he  has  come  to  see  the 
old  gentleman  I  hope  he  will  step  along  and  attend  to 
that  matter  forthwith." 

But  Dr.  Lester  did  not  step  along.  He  had  come  to 
pay  his  respects  to  Mr.  Surrey,  and  he  stood  with  him  and 
asked  him  if  he  had  ever  visited  this  section  of  the  coun- 
try before ;  how  it  compared  at  this  season  with  the  more 
northern  States;  with  similar  remarks  common  on  such 
occasions.  Finally  the  two  walked  together  toward  the 
house,  and  the  cream-colored  horse  was  tied  to  the  limb 
of  a  tree. 

When  Ardis  heard  Dr.  Lester's  voice  on  the  porch  she 
came  out  and  joined  the  gentlemen.  She  was  very  glad 
to  see  the  doctor.  In  a  certain  vague  way  he  seemed  a 
refuge  to  her.  She  was  gracious  and  attentive  to  him  in 
a  manner  that  appeared  somewhat  pronounced,  and  which 
struck  Mr.  Surrey  as  being  a  little  odd. 

Presently  the  major  came  in  from  the  farm,  and  Miss 
Norma  made  her  appearance  on  the  scene,  and  these  two 
were  also  very  gracious  and  attentive  to  the  doctor.  Mr. 
Surrey  sat  and  observed.  He  could  not  exactly  make  out 
Dr.  Lester,  who  was  plainly  a  family  friend,  and  who  might 
also  be  supposed  to  be  the  family  physician  were  it  not 
that  Mr.  Surrey  had  never  heard  of  a  doctor  whose  regard 
for  his  business  reputation  would  allow  him  to  spend  a 
morning  in  making  a  friendly  call. 

"If  he  has  nothing  to  do,"  thought  Jack,  "it  speaks 
well  for  the  health  of  the  country;  and  I  like  that." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEX.  83 

Mr.  Surrey  joined  in  the  general  conversation  whenever 
he  found  himself  able  to  do  so,  and  very  soon  came  to 
the  opinion  that  Dr.  Lester  was  a  man  who  not  only  knew 
a  good  deal  about  a  lot  of  things,  but  who  had  nothing 
very  pressing  to  do,  for  he  had  allowed  his  horse  to  be 
taken  to  the  stable  and  had  consented  to  stay  to  dinner. 
Mr.  Surrey,  who  could  ill  endure  protracted  sedentary 
conversation,  went  out  after  a  time  to  the  side  porch  to 
stretch  his  legs  and  to  look  at  the  sky.  There  was  nothing 
the  matter  with  the  sky,  and  the  legs  stretched  easily. 
And  then  he  walked  up  and  down  with  his  thumbs  in  the 
sleeve-holes  of  his  waistcoat  and  considered  what  he 
should  do  about  Dr.  Lester.  It  seemed  impossible  for 
him  to  carry  on  the  business  which  he  had  marked  out 
for  himself  in  the  morning,  while  that  man  was  here.  He 
therefore  turned  the  matter  over  in  his  mind  to  see  how 
he  could  make  the  best  of  present  circumstances,  this 
being  one  of  his  habitual  mental  exercises.  He  concluded 
that  the  very  best  thing  to  do  about  Dr.  Lester  was  to 
stop  playing  second  fiddle  in  conversations  in  which  he 
took  no  particular  interest,  and  to  get  some  good  for  him- 
self out  of  this  doctor,  who  seemed  to  be  well  posted  on  a 
variety  of  subjects. 

In  pursuance  of  his  determination,  Mr.  Surrey  proposed 
to  the  doctor,  soon  after  dinner,  to  take  a  walk  with  him, 
the  major  having  been  called  away  by  his  head  man.  In 
the  course  of  a  long  walk,  Mr.  Surrey  received  a  great 
deal  of  information  which  he  mentally  disposed  of  with 
aptness  and  good  judgment,  dropping  that  which  appeared 
unavailable,  and  carefully  storing  away  all  which  might  be 
of  future  use.  He  asked  questions  about  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  country,  about  the  game,  the  peculiar- 
ities of  the  soil,  the  rates  of  farm  wages,  the  methods  of 
fertilizing,  the  system  under  which  the  roads  were  kept  in 


84  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

repair,  the  grazing  capacity  of  the  country,  and  as  many 
points  connected  with  local  politics  as  he  was  able  to  put 
into  shape. 

Dr.  Lester  replied  with  willing  readiness  to  all  the 
queries  of  his  companion,  but  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
as  far  as  he  could  remember,  he  took  no  pleasure  in  talk- 
ing on  the  subjects  which  ordinarily  interested  him  so 
much.  The  truth  was  that  he  took  no  interest  in  Mr. 
Surrey.  He  had  promised  Miss  Ardis  that  he  would  do 
his  best  to  help  entertain  this  visitor  to  her  father's  house, 
and  he  had  honestly  endeavored  to  keep  his  promise. 
But  the  only  information  which  he  would  cheerfully  and 
gladly  have  given  this  gentleman  would  have  been  the 
hour  of  departure  of  the  next  train  from  Bolton  for  the 
North. 

On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Surrey  approved  of  the  doctor. 
He  was  a  queer  specimen,  so  grave,  so  long,  and  so  full 
of  facts;  but  he  had  proved  himself  very  serviceable. 
Mr.  Surrey  now  felt  confident  that  he  could  make  a  fair 
show  in  the  general  conversations  which  might  take  place 
at  Bald  Hill.  He  knew  enough  at  any  rate  to  ask  intelli- 
gent questions,  and  that  was  very  important.  He  had 
made  the  best  of  Dr.  Lester,  and  was,  therefore,  satisfied 
with  him.  But  he  had  no  further  need  of  him,  and  was 
glad,  as  they  approached  the  house,  to  see  a  saddled  horse 
standing  by  the  hitching-post ;  probably  in  pursuance  of 
orders  left  by  the  doctor. 

But  as  they  came  nearer  Surrey  noticed  that  the  horse 
was  not  a  cream-colored  one,  but  a  very  fine  bay  animal. 
Then  he  perceived  upon  the  porch  the  two  ladies,  the 
major,  and  a  gentleman.  When  he  reached  the  house 
this  individual,  a  tall,  good-looking  young  man,  was  intro- 
duced to  him  as  Mr.  Dunworth.  Jack  Surrey  did  not 
care  about  Mr.  Dunworth  one  way  or  the  other,  but  he 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  85 

was  very  unpleasantly  impressed  by  the  fact  that  there 
were  a  great  many  more  visitors  at  this  Virginia  country 
house  than  he  had  imagined  there  would  be.  In  fact,  in 
coming  down  here  he  had  supposed  that  he  would  have 
the  Miss  Claverden  field  all  to  himself. 

The  doctor  and  Mr.  Dunworth  stayed  to  supper,  and 
for  some  hours  afterward,  but  the  evening  was  not  a  very 
satisfactory  one.  The  major,  Norma,  and  Mr.  Surrey 
talked  a  good  deal,  and  the  others  listened  a  good  deal. 
This  listening,  which  was  done  by  persons  who  were  ac- 
customed to  take  their  full  share  of  the  talking,  threw  a 
certain  air  of  constraint  over  the  party. 

About  the  family  bed-time  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Dun- 
worth  departed,  and,  as  he  was  taking  leave  of  Ardis,  the 
latter  found  opportunity  to  say:  "How  long  is  that  man 
going  to  stay  here?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said,  "and  I  don't  think  you  ought 
to  speak  of  our  visitors  in  that  way.  I  supposed  you  came 
here  to  help  make  his  visit  pleasant." 

He  smiled  a  little  grimly.  "  To  tell  the  truth,"  he  said, 
"  I  came  to  see  who  and  what  he  is.  I  do  not  like  him." 

"  Roger  Dunworth !  "  said  Ardis,  severely. 

"Ardis,"  he  replied,  "you  know  very  well  what  I  mean. 
It  is  because  of  you  that  I  care  enough  about  him  not  to 
like  him." 

"  You  do  very  wrong,"  she  said  flushing,  "  to  place  me 
even  in  your  own  mind,  in  such  positions  in  regard  to  other 
people." 

And  she  did  not  give  him  her  hand  when  he  left. 

Jack  Surrey  went  to  his  room  disappointed,  but  not  at 
all  disheartened.  "  The  result  of  this  interruption  is,"  he 
said  to  himself,  "  that  I  shall  not  count  this  day  as  part  of 
my  visit.  I  shall  begin  fresh  to-morrow." 


86  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

ON  the  morrow  Mr.  Surrey  thought  it  well  to  give  some 
attention  to  the  ostensible  business  which  had 
brought  him  to  Bolton.  It  was  not  according  to  Major 
Claverden's  ideas  of  politeness  to  ask  his  visitor  any  ques- 
tions concerning  this  business ;  and  Surrey  was  not  en- 
tirely prepared  to  give  such  information,  had  it  been  asked. 
Of  course,  had  he  been  thrown  among  inquisitive  people, 
he  would  have  had  an  answer  for  them,  but  he  was  very 
glad  that,  so  far,  he  had  not  been  required  to  make  any 
remarks  on  the  subject.  But  appearances  demanded  of 
him  that  he  should  show  a  proper  interest  in  this  business, 
whatever  it  might  be.  And  so,  after  breakfast,  he  bor- 
rowed a  horse  of  the  major,  and  rode  into  town. 

In  a  general  way  Mr.  Surrey  had  thought  that  if  he 
should  find  it  necessary  to  make  known  his  business  in- 
tentions, he  would  probably  want  to  look  over  some  papers 
in  the  office  of  the  clerk  of  the  county  court.  He  knew 
Bolton  was  a  county  town,  and  supposed  it  had  a  county 
court  with  the  appertaining  clerk,  but  that  said  clerk  had 
an  office,  or  that  there  were  any  papers  in  the  office,  Mr. 
Surrey  was  not  at  all  certain. 

On  the  road  to  town  he  was  in  excellent  spirits.  He 
liked  this  country  and  this  sort  of  life ;  he  liked  to  ride  to 
town  on  a  good  horse ;  he  liked  to  think  that  he  was  com- 
ing back  to  spend  the  rest  of  the  day,  and  he  did  not 
know  how  many  more  days,  with  such  a  wonderfully  fine 
girl  as  Ardis  Claverden.  She  would  even  suit  him  a  great 
deal  better  than  he  had  thought  she  would.  She  was  a 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  87 

little  quieter  here  than  when  he  had  met  her  in  the  city, 
but  he  liked  that ;  it  gave  her  a  new  charm.  In  fact  he 
thought  he  should  like  that  girl  in  any  mood.  To  be  sure 
he  should  prefer  some  moods  to  others,  but  she  would  ap- 
pear well  in  any. 

He  did  not  ride  fast,  and  his  quick  eyes  glanced  on 
every  side.  He  wished  to  understand  and  appreciate 
what  he  saw,  and  he  made  conjectures  as  to  the  kind  of 
grain  which  had  been  grown  in  this  stubble  field  or  in 
that.  When  he  reached  the  bottom  of  a  long  hill  he  saw 
a  man  sitting  on  a  fence  by  the  roadside.  The  man's 
face  was  a  good-humored  one,  and  wore  an  expression 
half  of  inquisitiveness  and  half  of  recognition.  Jack  liked 
to  talk  to  people  whom  he  met  in  this  way  and  he  drew 
up  his  horse. 

"  Fine  country  you  have  about  here,"  he  said. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man,  "  in  some  ways  you  may  call  it 
fine,  but  in  other  ways  it's  different.  But  I  suppose  to 
people  coming  from  the  city,  any  kind  of  country  looks 
mighty  nice." 

Mr.  Surrey  did  not  like  this.  Wherever  he  went  he 
wished  to  be  considered  perfectly  at  home.  He  slightly 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  did  not  deign  to  explain  to 
this  casual  stranger  that  he  was  quite  familiar  with  all  the 
different  kinds  of  country  that  there  were.  He  asserted 
himself,  however,  so  far  as  to  say  that  he  had  noticed  the 
people  hereabouts  had  made  a  great  mistake  in  cutting 
down  so  many  of  their  trees,  especially  on  the  high 
roads. 

"  Well,"  said  the  man  on  the  fence,  "  some  people  have 
one  kind  of  opinion  about  trees  along  the  road,  and  some 
have  another.  Some  like  'em  and  some  don't.  But, 
talkin'  of  trees,  do  you  see  that  one,  down  there  at  the 
turn  of  the  roads?  Isn't  that  big  and  handsome?  " 


88  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Surrey,  "that  is  a  very  fine  tree." 
"  Well,  now  I'll  tell  you  about  that  tree,"  said  the  man, 
settling  himself  more  comfortably  on  his  top  rail.  "  Three 
years  ago  that  tree  was  a  weak,  scragly,  mean-looking 
thing.  At  that  time  there  was  a  feller  in  these  parts 
named  Pete  Creegle,  who  was  a  mighty  big  rascal,  one  of 
the  worst  kind.  He  made  the  people  round  here  afraid 
to  go  to  sleep  at  night.  Sometimes  he  broke  into  houses 
and  stole  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands  on,  and  some- 
times he'd  murder  a  couple  of  old  people  to  steal  seven 
or  eight  dollars  that  they  had  put  away  somewhere,  and 
sometimes  he'd  pour  kerosene  over  a  barn  and  set  fire  to 
it  and  burn  up  horses,  mules  and  everything  in  it.  He 
was  caught  two  or  three  times,  but  he  always  got  off  some 
way  or  other;  but  he  was  grabbed  up  right  in  the  middle 
of  his  last  piece  of  rascality,  and  for  fear  he'd  get  off 
again,  a  party  of  good  citizens  took  him  and  hanged  him 
on  that  tree.  Well,  sir,  from  that  minute  that  tree  began 
to  feel  good.  It  looked  as  if  it  said  to  itself:  'Now  I've 
been  of  some  real  downright  service  to  this  county.  I've 
helped  the  people  to  get  rid  of  Pete  Creegle!  I'll  be 
durned  if  I  don't  believe  I'm  a  good  deal  more  of  a  tree 
than  I  thought  I  was/  And  then  that  tree  began  to 
hump  itself  and  put  on  airs.  It  just  grew  up  and  spread 
out  till  it  got  to  be  the  big,  handsome  tree  you  see  there! 
Now  what  do  you  think  of  that,  sir,  for  a  tree  with  a  good 
opinion  of  itself?  " 

Jack  Surrey  was  not  at  all  averse  to  making  a  little 
good-natured  game  of  a  stranger,  and  when  he  had  an 
opportunity  he  did  not  refrain  from  the  sport.  But  he 
objected  to  any  one  making  game  of  him.  That  sort  of 
thing  he  would  quickly  resent.  His  eyes  sparkled  a  little 
as  he  looked  steadfastly  at  the  man  on  the  fence.  "  That 
was  a  good  piece  of  work,"  said  he,  "  and  if  people  about 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  89 

here  would  plant  trees  all  along  the  roads,  and  then  hang 
on  them  the  good-for-nothing,  long-legged  lazy  rascals 
who  sit  about  in  the  sun  instead  of  trying  to  do  something 
to  earn  their  own  victuals  and  soap,  they  would  have  the 
best-shaded  roads  to  be  found  in  this  country! " 

And  with  this  Mr.  Surrey  rode  slowly  away. 

As  a  general  thing,  Bonetti  was  a  good-humored,  pleas- 
ant-tempered man,  but  now  all  there  was  in  him  of  Nea- 
politan blood  came  darkly  into  his  face.  Getting  down 
from  the  fence,  he  went  home. 

Jack  Surrey  rode  into  town  serene,  happy,  and  ready 
to  be  interested.  He  entered  the  main  street,  and  soon 
stopped  in  front  of  the  principal  hotel  in  the  place.  He 
gave  his  horse  to  a  negro  boy,  taking  it  for  granted  that 
the  boy  would  do  for  the  animal  whatever  people  did  to 
horses  on  similar  occasions.  Whether  he  watered  him, 
fed  him,  groomed  him,  or  had  him  shod,  the  matter  con- 
cerned not  the  mind  of  Mr.  Surrey.  He  went  into  the 
hotel,  bought  a  cigar,  lighted  it,  came  out  upon  the  porch, 
took  a  seat  in  an  arm-chair,  put  his  feet  up  on  the  railing, 
and  surveyed  the  passing  scene. 

The  passing  scene  was  very  pleasing  to  Mr.  Surrey. 
Although  he  sometimes  spent  a  winter  in  Washington,  he 
was  not  accustomed  to  Southern  rural  life ;  and  all  he  saw 
was  novel  and  interesting.  The  peculiar  business  life  of 
the  street  exhibiting  a  certain  bustling  activity  blended 
with  a  happy  sense  of  leisure  which  gave  every  man  time 
enough  to  talk  to  a  friend  without  neglecting  his  affairs, 
seemed  to  Jack  the  beau  ideal  of  what  business  life  ought 
to  be.  It  suited  him. 

"I  should  like  to  ride  into  town,"  he  thought,  "and 
sell  corn  and  tobacco  and  wine  to  these  good  fellows.  By 
George !  I  believe  every  man  knows  everybody  else !  " 

A  melancholy,  half-grown  ox  between  the  shafts  of  a 


9o  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

doleful  cart,  driven  by  a  shriveled-up  old  negro  man  wear- 
ing a  battered  black  silk  hat,  excited  his  delight. 

"One  couldn't  see  anything  better  than  that  at  the 
theatre,'1  he  thought. 

The  negroes,  men,  women  and  children,  entertained 
him  much.  Whether  sailing  along  in  finery,  or  slouching 
about  in  rags  and  old  boots,  they  interested  and  amused 
him.  A  little  negro  boy,  carrying  a  large  basket,  stopped 
and  asked  him  if  he  wanted  his  boots  blackened. 

"Where  are  you  going  with  that  basket?"  asked  Mr. 
Surrey. 

"  I's  gwine  to  de  stoh  fer  groc'ri's,"  said  he. 

"And  how  are  you  going  to  blacken  my  boots?  " 

"  Oh,  I  kin  black  'em ! "  cried  the  boy,  his  eyes  sparkling 
with  mercenary  expectation.  "  Dar's  a  boy  down  de  hill 
wot'll  len'  me  his  blackin'-box.  Jes'  you  keep  you'  eye  on 
dat  basket,  boss,  an'  I'll  run  fotch  de  box." 

"  Look  here,  you  young  rascal,"  said  Mr.  Surrey,  severely, 
"  do  you  mean  to  say  that  when  you  are  sent  on  errands 
you  stop  to  go  and  borrow  kits  and  black  people's  boots?  " 

"  Yes,  sah,"  said  the  boy,  his  eyes  wide  open  with  as- 
tonishment that  any  one  should  doubt  his  willingness  to 
do  such  a  praiseworthy  deed  as  this. 

"  Well,  get  along,  and  attend  to  your  business,"  said 
Mr.  Surrey,  "or  I  will  teach  you  how  to  go  on  errands! 
Take  that!  "  and  he  tossed  him  a  coin  which  would  have 
paid  for  the  polishing  of  his  boots. 

Scarcely  had  the  boy  departed,  grinning,  when  a  high- 
pitched  dog-cart,  drawn  by  a  headlong  little  horse,  dashed 
up  to  the  door,  and  a  young  man  with  rosy  face,  and 
dressed  in  a  corduroy  suit,  sprang  out.  This  individual 
hurried  into  the  hotel,  transacted  his  business  there  in  a 
very  few  minutes,  hurried  out  again,  sprang  into  his  dog- 
cart, and  whirled  himself  away. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDE1V.  gr 

"English!"  thought  Mr.  Surrey.  "  Know  them  wher- 
ever I  see  them!  Slam-bang,  dog-cart,  and  whiskey." 

Mr.  Surrey  was  not  averse  to  any  of  these  things  taken 
in  moderation,  but  it  amused  him  to  see  other  people 
given  to  them.  He  now  threw  away  the  end  of  his  cigar 
and  walked  up  the  street.  Here  he  saw  shops  with  a  lot 
of  things  in  them  a  man  might  want;  in  a  window  a 
display  of  cravats  which  prompted  him  to  go  in  and  buy 
one ;  a  little  farther  on  a  boy  in  a  stationer's  store  sawing 
in  half  a  block  of  ice  which  he  had  just  pulled  up  out  of 
the  cellar,  and  for  which  a  customer  with  a  basket  was 
waiting. 

"This  is  too  jolly!"  said  Jack  Surrey.  "  Pens,  ink, 
and  ice!  I  wonder  if  they  keep  pug  pups  in  there!  This 
sort  of  thing  ought  to  be  written  up  for  the  magazines. 
It  would  make  a  first-class  illustrated  article.  I  have  a 
mind  to  do  it  myself.  By  George!  I  will  do  it!  Happy 
thought!  That  is  my  business  in  this  town!  Confound 
the  clerk  of  the  county  court!  I'll  have  nothing  to  do 
with  him!  I  will  lay  in  a  stock  of  tools  and  go  straight 
to  work." 

And  turning  back,  he  went  into  the  stationery  shop  and 
bought  a  pocket  memorandum-book,  pencils,  a  package 
of  manuscript  paper,  a  bottle  of  ink,  some  pens,  and  a 
portable  inkstand.  He  then  spent  about  half  an  hour 
talking  with  the  proprietor  of  the  establishment,  from 
whom  he  extracted  a  variety  of  curious  and  interesting 
facts  in  regard  to  the  town  and  the  people. 

Having  now  settled  upon  his  business  in  Bolton,  Jack 
was  joyously  satisfied.  He  returned  to  the  hotel;  called 
for  his  horse;  remunerated  the  boy  with  a  sum  which 
was  royal  pay  for  having  simply  tied  the  animal  to  a  post ; 
and  then  rode  back  to  Bald  Hill. 

"  I  cannot  draw  the  pictures,"  he  said  to  himself,  as 


92  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

his  horse,  animated  by  visions  of  his  noontide  meal,  can- 
tered briskly  homeward.  "But  that  does  not  matter;  I 
can  have  them  made  in  New  York.  I  can  tell  the  artist 
exactly  what  to  draw,  and  we  shall  get  on  well  enough." 

Major  Claverden  met  him  at  the  door.  "  I  hope  you 
have  had  satisfactory  success  in  your  affairs,  sir,"  said  his 
host  with  polite  but  uninquisitive  interest. 

"  Oh,  splendid!  "  said  Mr.  Surrey.  "  I  have  got  a  lot  of 
capital  points  for  the  illustrated  article  I  am  going  to 
write  about  Bolton.  I  had  no  idea  your  town,  sir,  was  so 
full  of  good  bits  both  for  pen  and  pencil." 

"  I  hope,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "  if  your  business  here 
is  to  write  an  account  of  our  town  and  neighborhood 
for  Northern  readers,  that  you  will  give  yourself  ample 
opportunity  to  know  us  exactly  as  we  are.  That  is  all  we 
desire,  sir.  But  a  great  deal  has  been  written  by  persons 
who  made  their  observations  in  the  most  superficial  man- 
ner which  outrageously  misrepresented  us,  sir." 

"  Oh,  you  needn't  be  afraid  of  anything  of  that  kind 
in  my  case,"  said  Jack.  "  I  shall  look  long  indeed  into 
everything  I  write  about,  and  I  haven't  any  prejudices 
one  way  or  another.  And  what  is  more,  major,  I  shall 
not  mind  in  the  least  letting  you  look  over  my  manuscript 
before  I  print  it ;  so  that  you  may  let  me  know  if  I  have 
got  anything  crooked." 

"That  is  very  fair,"  said  the  major,  "and  I  shall  be 
glad  to  do  so.  Are  you  an  artist,  sir,  as  well  as  a  writer?  " 

"No,"  said  Jack,  "and  there  is  the  rub!  I  do  not 
draw,  and  I  don't  suppose  I  could  find  anybody  about 
here  who  could  make  sketches  for  me.  But  that  will 
make  but  little  difference,  for  the  pictures  can  be  done 
from  descriptions.  That  is  common  enough." 

"My  daughter,  sir,"  said  Major  Claverden,  "is  an  ad- 
mirable artist,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  will  be  able 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  93 

to  furnish  you  with  sketches  which  may  be  useful  to 
you.'1 

Mr.  Surrey's  eyes  sparkled,  "Good!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Nothing  could  be  better  than  that!  And  I  shall  be  de- 
lighted to  avail  myself  of  any  assistance  she  may  be  will- 
ing to  give  me. 

"  Now  then,"  thought  Jack,  as,  when  left  to  himself,  he 
walked  up  and  down  the  porch,  "  could  anything  be  more 
glorious !  She  draws !  I  write !  Pop !  " 


94  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

ON  the  afternoon  of  that  day  Mr.  Surrey  walked  up  and 
down  on  the  grass  under  the  oak  trees  smoking  his 
cigar.  He  had  had  his  dinner;  he  was  satisfied  with  all 
the  world ;  and  he  was  waiting  for  the  appearance  of  Miss 
Claverden  in  order  that  he  might  discuss  with  her  the 
subjects  of  the  sketches  for  his  article.  He  had  not  men- 
tioned this  matter  at  dinner,  somewhat  to  his  host's  sur- 
prise, for  the  major  thought  when  a  man  had  anything  as 
important  as  that  to  speak  of,  he  would  speak  of  it  on  the 
first  opportunity.  But  as  his  guest  made  no  allusion  to 
the  matter,  he,  of  course,  made  none. 

Jack  Surrey  valued  too  highly  the  opportunities  which 
his  proposed  discussion  might  give  him  to  waste  any  of 
them  in  desultory  dinner  talk.  He  wished  to  speak  to 
Ardis  alone,  and  as  his  cigar  drew  near  its  end  he  began 
to  grow  impatient  for  her  appearance.  He  changed  the 
direction  of  his  walk  so  he  could  keep  his  eyes  upon  the 
piazza,  porches,  and  open  lower  windows  of  the  house. 
Norma  Cranton  came  out  on  the  side  porch,  and  taking  a 
shaded  seat,  began  to  work  upon  her  rural  scene  on  linen. 
Jack  spoke  cheerily  to  her,  and  presently  joined  her. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,"  he  said,  "  when  Miss  Claverden  will 
be  likely  to  make  her  appearance  among  us  mortals?  I, 
for  one,  am  particularly  anxious  to  see  her.  I  wish  to 
talk  to  her  on  business." 

"Business!"  exclaimed  Norma,  her  eyes  expressing 
astonishment. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Cranton,"  said  Jack,  lazily  throwing  him- 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  95 

self  into  a  corner  of  a  bench,  "  business.  I  don't  suppose 
you  look  upon  me  as  a  business  man,  but  I  assure  you 
that  is  what  I  am.  And  I  do  not  mind,"  he  continued, 
leaning  a  little  forward  as  he  spoke,  "  telling  you  what  my 
business  is.  I  believe  it  is  a  sort  of  thing  which  you  will 
take  an  interest  in;  and  in  which  you  can  help  a  man 
very  much  indeed." 

Norma  let  her  square  of  linen  drop  into  her  lap,  and 
looked  at  him. 

"  I  am  going  to  collect  as  many  good  points  as  I  can 
about  life  in  your  town  and  in  this  part  of  the  country, 
and  when  I  have  taken  all  the  notes  I  want,  and  have  got 
a  lot  of  sketches " 

"  You  are  going  to  write  a  book  for  Northern  readers," 
interrupted  Norma,  "making  fun  of  the  people  of  the 
South,  especially  of  this  region." 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Cranton !  Not  at  all ! "  exclaimed 
Surrey.  "I  am  not  that  sort  of  man,  I  assure  you.  Of 
course  I  shall  bring  forth  all  the  odd  and  quaint  charac- 
teristics, especially  of  the  negroes  and  ordinary  whites; 
but  as  to  making  fun  of  your  people,  I  would  not  dream 
of  such  a  thing,  Miss  Cranton." 

Norma  listened  to  Mr.  Surrey's  disclaimer,  but  his 
words  made  no  impression  upon  her.  "  The  books  you 
Northern  people  write  are  all  alike,"  she  said.  "You 
take  what  you  call  the  quaint  and  peculiar  characteristics 
of  the  negroes  and  low-down  whites,  and  you  put  them 
forward  in  such  a  way  that  the  readers  of  the  books  think 
that  we  are  all  like  that.  Now,  I  consider  these  traits  of 
the  working  people  as  utterly  beneath  notice.  And  if 
you  all  were  to  write  books  which  would  give  a  true  idea 
of  life  down  here  you  would  write  of  the  ladies  and  gen- 
tlemen you  associate  with,  and  put  everything  else  into 
the  background  where  it  belongs." 


96  ARD1S  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Really,  Miss  Cranton —  '  said  Surrey.  But  he 
stopped  speaking  at  the  sound  of  approaching  wheels, 
and  the  next  instant  a  dog-cart  pulled  up  at  the  front  of 
the  house  and  a  fresh-faced  young  man,  in  a  corduroy 
suit,  sprang  to  the  ground. 

"Upon  my  word,"  said  Mr.  Surrey,  "if  there  isn't  the 
young  Englishman  I  saw  in  town  to-day/' 

"Yes,17  said  Norma,  "it  is  Mr.  Prouter,  and  I  don't  be- 
lieve there  is  anybody  to  receive  him."  And  she  went 
through  the  house  to  the  front. 

Mr.  Surrey  remained  a  few  moments  in  the  corner  of 
the  bench.  "It  must  be  business  with  the  major  that 
brings  that  fellow  here,"  he  muttered.  Then,  hearing 
voices,  he  got  up  and  went  inside.  Through  the  open 
windows  of  the  parlor  he  could  look  upon  the  front  porch, 
and  there  he  saw  Prouter  shaking  hands  with  Ardis. 
"Confound  it!  "  he  said  to  himself.  "She  always  makes 
her  appearance  as  soon  as  any  country  Tom,  Dick,  or 
Harry  arrives!" 

Norma  was  already  on  the  porch,  where  Major  Claver- 
den  soon  made  his  appearance.  Surrey,  not  wishing  to 
be  left  to  himself,  joined  the  group.  He  was  made  ac- 
quainted with  Mr.  Prouter,  but  the  ceremony  did  not 
appear  to  afford  him  any  gratification.  Contrary  to  his 
usual  manner,  he  was  qui  t  and  a  little  stiff.  Mr.  Surrey 
had  no  dislike  for  Englishmen.  He  had  lived  a  good  deal 
in  London;  and,  as  a  rule,  looked  upon  a  Briton  as  a 
jolly  good  fellow.  But  he  disliked  this  Englishman  be- 
cause he  had  thrust  himself  upon  the  scene  at  the  momen* 
when  he  was  hoping  for  a  tete-a-tete  with  Miss  Claverden ; 
and  also  because  he  looked  so  disgustingly  delighted  when 
that  lady  was  shaking  him  by  the  hand. 

It  being  very  pleasant  on  the  open  porch,  the  party  nov/ 
took  seats  there,  and  Prouter  instantly  began  to  talk. 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDKN. 


97 


"  Do  you  know,  Miss  Claverden,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am 
going  into  business?  I  have  set  up  a  milk  route." 

At  this  everybody  exclaimed  in  astonishment.  "It 
does  sound  queer,  doesn't  it,  really?  "  said  Prouter,  his 
face  glowing  with  ruddy  fervor.  "  But  that  is  what  I  have 
done.  I  vowed  to  myself  I  would  not  be  the  only  man 
in  this  county  with  nothing  to  do.  And  so  I  set  up  a  milk 
route." 

Ardis  and  Norma  were  much  amused  by  Mr.  Prouter's 
statement,  but  the  major  was  filled  with  grave  surprise. 
"  It  appears  to  me,  sir,"  he  said,  "  that  you  could  not  have 
chosen  a  more  unsuitable  occupation." 

"  Beg  pardon,"  said  Prouter,  "  but  if  you  look  at  it  you 
will  see  that  that  is  not  the  case.  Anything  better  suited 
to  me  couldn't  be  imagined.  I  must  gallop  over  the 
country  looking  for  new  cows  when  the  old  ones  give  out ; 
I  must  ride  here,  there,  and  everywhere,  buying  hay,  fod- 
der, ensilage,  and  everything  else  that  cattle  eat  or  want ; 
and  I  must  keep  on  the  go  day  and  night,  to  see  that  the 
milkers  and  the  feeders  and  the  fellows  that  drive  the 
wagons  are  kept  up  to  their  work  and  do  no  shillyshally- 
ing; and  besides  that,  I've  got  to  increase  the  line  of 
customers,  if  I  expect  the  thing  to  pay,  and  that  will  take 
a  lot  of  going  about  town  and  seeing  people;  to  say 
nothing  of  riding  into  Bolton  every  morning  from  Quan- 
trill's — a  good  six  miles — and  back  again  at  night.  Now, 
that's  lively,  isn't  it?  And  something  out-and-out  lively 
is  what  I  want !  " 

"Do  you  mean,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "that  you  have 
already  set  up  your  route;  that  you  have  collected  to- 
gether everything  necessary  for  such  an  enterprise?  " 

"  I  have  not  done  anything  of  that  sort,"  said  Prouter. 
"I  found  that  getting  things  together  for  myself  would  be 
too  slow  work,  so  I  bought  out  Keyser,  the  milkman  in 
7 


98  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Bolton;  I've  bought  him  out,  root  and  branch,  cows,  milk- 
pans,  stables,  wagons,  pitchforks,  and  everything.  He 
hadn't  much  of  a  connection,  for  people  didn't  like  his 
milk.  But  I  am  going  to  set  up  the  whole  business  on  a 
new  basis.  I'll  get  in  a  lot  of  tip -top  cows,  and  shall  have 
all  the  wagons  painted,  new  and  bright,  with  green  bodies 
and  red  wheels ;  and  in  big  letters  on  the  side,  '  Royal 
Blossom  Meadow  Milk.'  That  is  the  sort  of  stuff  I  am 
going  to  furnish!  American  customers  won't  object  to 
the  '  Royal,'  and  that  part  of  the  title  will  tickle  the  old- 
country  people  hereabouts.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  they'd 
all  sell  their  Yankee  cows  and  buy  my  milk.  That's  a 
tip-top  bit  of  a  touch  now,  isn't  it?  I  don't  suppose  you 
want  to  take  milk,  do  you,  Miss  Claverden?  " 

Ardis  laughed.  "We  have  a  large  herd  of  cows,"  she 
said,  "  and  I  hardly  think  we  shall  want  any  of  the  Royal 
Blossom  Milk,  though  I  wish  you  all  success." 

"Thank  you  for  that,"  said  he,  "but  I  am  going  to 
send  you  some  of  the  milk,  anyway.  You  don't  know 
what  glorious  milk-punch  it  makes!  I  took  some  of  it 
out  to  Quantrill's  last  night  in  a  little  pail,  and  although 
most  of  it  spilled  over  my  legs,  there  was  enough  of  it  left 
to  make  some  of  the  finest  punch  you  ever  tasted.  Do 
you  fancy  milk-punch,  sir?"  said  he,  suddenly,  turning 
toward  Mr.  Surrey. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Surrey,  promptly,  and  falsely. 

"I've  a  great  mind  to  send  the  punch  ready-made," 
said  Prouter. 

"You  must  bring  it  yourself,  sir,"  said  the  major,  "but 
I  would  not  advise  you  to  set  up  a  milk-punch  route." 

At  this  everybody  laughed,  except  Mr.  Surrey,  and 
Prouter  exclaimed:  "I'll  tell  you,  Miss  Claverden,  that 
when  you  want  to  sketch  me  again  you  must  take  me 
mounted,  with  a  sombrero  and  a  big  cattle  whip." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  99 

"And  a  lot  of  milk-pails  and  churns  in  the  background," 
added  Ardis. 

The  conversation  continued  in  this  strain  for  some  time, 
while  Mr.  Surrey  looked  on  with  silent  disapproval. 

"So  Ardis  Claverden  sketched  this  fellow,  did  she?" 
And  a  more  impertinent,  red-faced  puppy,  Mr.  Surrey 
thought  he  had  never  looked  upon.  He  would  like  to 
pop  him,  head  foremost,  into  one  of  his  own  milk-cans. 
"  Why  should  he  come  here,  thrusting  his  vulgar  business 
into  the  notice  of  gentlemen  and  ladies?  " 

Upon  one  thing  Mr.  Surrey  quickly  made  up  his  mind. 
To  persons  like  Dr.  Lester  and  Dunworth,  who  were  evi- 
dently old  friends  of  the  family,  he  would  be  studiously 
courteous ;  but  there  was  no  reason  why  he  should  treat 
this  little  jackanapes  with  any  respect  whatever.  Of 
course  he  would  remember  that  this  person  was  a  visitor 
in  a  family  where  he  was  also  a  guest,  and  he  would  do 
nothing  out  of  the  way;  but  if  he  caught  the  little  rascal 
interfering  in  his  affair  with  Ardis  Claverden,  he  would 
break  his  neck  somewhere  off  the  premises. 

The  whole  party  now  walked  out  to  the  studio  to  look 
at  Ardis'  picture,  which  was  nearly  finished  and  was 
unanimously  declared  to  be  a  capital  painting,  which, 
barring  some  defects  of  inexperience,  it  really  was.  Mr. 
Prouter,  notwithstanding  the  demands  of  his  new  career, 
staid  to  supper,  at  which  meal  Dr.  Lester  was  also 
present.  The  whole  of  the  milk-route  business  was  told 
again  and  retalked  over,  and  similar  things  were  done 
which  excited  Mr.  Surrey's  impatience  and  disgust.  But 
at  ten  o'clock  the  two  visitors  left,  and  Surrey  found  an 
opportunity  to  have  a  private  talk  with  Ardis.  He  put 
before  her  the  subject  of  the  sketches  in  a  way  which  in- 
terested her.  She  had  had  no  idea  that  he  was  a  writer, 
and  she  was  very  willing  to  let  him  see  all  the  sketches 


ioo  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

she  had  on  hand,  and  to  make  more  for  him,  if  necessary. 
An  interview  in  the  studio  was  appointed  for  the  next 
morning,  and  Jack  went  to  bed  greatly  encouraged. 

During  the  two  following  days  there  was  a  great  deal  of 
art  discussion,  and  some  art  work,  at  Bald  Hill.  Ardis 
had  sketch-books  and  portfolios  filled  with  finished,  half- 
finished,  and  barely  begun  heads,  figures,  log-cabins,  and 
all  sorts  of  characteristic  "  bits,"  all  of  which  Mr.  Surrey  de- 
clared to  be  exactly  what  he  wanted.  Some  of  the  draw- 
ings he  could  take  just  as  they  were  and  write  up  to — 
declaring  that  most  of  the  illustrated  articles  of  the  day 
were  constructed  in  that  way — others  could  be  furnished 
to  suit  his  notes;  and  there  was  no  end  of  the  capital 
work  they  could  do  together. 

These  discussions  were  not  confined  to  Ardis  and  Mr. 
Surrey;  Norma  was  continually  in  and  out  of  the  studio, 
making  suggestions  which  she  hoped  would  elevate  the 
general  tone  of  the  subjects  taken.  The  major  also 
showed  a  lively  interest  in  the  work,  and  assured  Mr. 
Surrey  that  when  he  should  reach  that  branch  of  his  sub- 
ject he  would  be  ready  to  give  him  all  needful  points  in 
regard  to  the  great  grape-growing  interests  of  the  locality, 
and  would  indicate  some  illustrations  which  would  tend 
to  give  a  peculiar  value  to  his  article. 

Ardis  made  some  original  sketches  from  Mr.  Surrey's 
suggestions  and  descriptions,  and  he  declared  that  if  she 
could  get  him  some  darkies,  big  and  little,  he  could  pose 
them  so  as  to  serve  for  all  sorts  of  street  subjects.  Several 
negro  boys  and  girls  were  sketched  in  attitudes  considered 
characteristic;  but  the  favorite  model  was  Uncle  Shad, 
the  old  ox-driver. 

Uncle  Shad  had  often  sat  to  Ardis,  sometimes  as  one 
thing,  and  sometimes  as  another.  She  had  made  a  very 
good  middle-aged  Roman  soldier  of  him,  and  there  were 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  101 

several  sketches  on  the  studio  walls  in  which  he  figured  as 
venerable  personages  of  the  past.  One  of  his  greatest 
merits  as  a  model  was  his  perfect  willingness  to  sit  still 
for  any  length  of  time;  and  Ardis  had  often  given  the 
oxen  a  half  holiday  in  order  that  their  driver  might  have 
a  chance  of  going  down  to  posterity  instead  of  the  wood- 
lands, where  the  winter's  fuel  was  waiting  to  be  hauled. 
The  old  man  always  wanted  to  know  what  he  was  "gwine 
to  be  drawed  fer,"  but  only  on  one  occasion  did  he  ex- 
press a  decided  opinion  on  the  subject. 

"  I  does  wish,  Miss  Ardis/'  he  said,  "  that  I  wasn't  most 
times  drawed  as  a  old  heathen  or  a  Cath'lic.  Some  ob 
dese  days,  Miss  Ardis,  when  you  feels  mighty  good,  it 
would  make  my  soul  bounce  wid  joy  ef  you  was  to  put  me 
inter  a  picter  like  a  pow'ful  preacher  standin'  up  stiff  an' 
strong,  on  top  of  a  big  rock,  wid  a  mighty  voice  'spoundin' 
de  word  to  a  whole  field  full  ob  bred'ren  an'  sisters,  wid 
Beelzebub  skippin'  ober  de  hills  into  de  nex'  county,  whar 
dar  wasn't  no  sich  pow'ful  preacher  as  me." 

This  proposed  subject  pleased  the  fancy  of  Ardis,  who, 
when  she  put  action  into  her  pictures,  liked  it  to  be 
strong,  and  did  not  at  all  object  if  it  proved  erratic;  and 
she  resolved  that  some  day  she  would  paint  a  picture  of 
this  kind,  and  make  a  present  of  it  to  Uncle  Shad.  But 
this  plan  had  not  yet  been  carried  out. 

Mr.  Surrey  was  very  fond  of  posing  Uncle  Shad.  He 
made  him  sit  as  a  driver  of  "  The  Lonely  Ox,"  and  in 
other  "  character  "  attitudes.  All  this  was  very  delightful 
to  Jack  Surrey.  In  the  morning  he  galloped  into  town 
to  get  "points"  for  his  article,  but  he  did  not  waste  any 
precious  moments  and  was  back  by  the  time  Ardis  was 
ready  to  begin  work  in  her  studio.  He  would  have  been 
better  pleased  if  Norma  had  not  popped  in  and  out  so 
often,  and  if  Ardis  had  not  been  so  gravely  intent  upon 


102  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

her  work.  His  attempts  to  lead  the  occasional  tete-a-tete 
conversations  into  channels  in  the  least  degree  tinged  with 
sentimentality  were  always  unsuccessful.  She  was  willing 
enough  to  talk,  but  she  preferred  practical  subjects. 

She  was  not  at  all  the  animated,  sprightly  young  lady 
he  had  met  the  winter  before.  There  was,  however,  an 
encouraging  construction  which  might  be  placed  upon 
this  present  manner  of  Ardis.  To  Surrey's  somewhat 
practised  judgment  it  looked  as  if  she  were  on  her  guard. 
If  this  were  the  case  she  suspected  his  ultimate  object, 
and  to  do  this  she  must  think  of  him  as  a  wooer,  and  to 
make  the  desired  lady  think  of  him  as  a  wooer  is  a  very 
advantageous  first  step  for  a  man  who  intends  to  woo. 
The  second  step  in  which  he  should  show  himself  to  be  a 
wooer,  Jack  intended  to  take  very  soon.  If  opportunity  did 
not  come  of  itself  he  would  make  it ;  that  was  his  fashion. 

A  remark  by  Norma  one  evening  to  the  effect  that  she 
did  not  object  to  this  sketching  business  as  much  as  she 
thought  she  should,  because  Ardis  was  so  careful  to  let 
Mr.  Surrey  see  that  all  this  was  art  work,  and  nothing 
else,  set  Ardis  thinking. 

She  had  begun  to  feel  that  she  was  not  acting  in  ac- 
cordance with  her  nature.  She  was  not  in  the  habit  of 
treating  any  man,  with  whom  she  chose  to  associate,  with 
coolness  and  caution.  To  do  this  was  to  make  him  an 
exception,  and  it  was  highly  desirable  that  Mr.  Surrey 
should  not  consider  that  anybody  else  considered  it  neces- 
sary to  make  of  him  an  exception  in  this  way.  It  was 
natural  for  her  to  be  gay  and  free,  and  there  was  no  reason 
why  Mr.  Surrey  should  interfere  with  this  disposition,  or 
imagine  he  was  interfering  with  it. 

Before  she  slept  that  night  she  determined  that  she 
would  be  perfectly  natural  and  treat  Mr.  Surrey  just  as 
she  treated  other  men  of  her  acquaintance. 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDE ~N. 


CHAPTER   X. 

ON  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  Roger  Dunworth  rode 
up  to  Bald  Hill,  and  after  supper  Ardis  took  him 
aside. 

"  Roger,"  said  she — they  had  been  boy  and  girl  to- 
gether, and  called  each  other  by  their  Christian  names — 
"  I  want  you  to  join  a  party  to  go  to  the  Ridgeby  Caves." 

"  Who  are  to  be  in  the  party?  "  asked  Dunworth  quickly. 

"  It  is  made  up  principally  for  Mr.  Surrey.  He  is  writ- 
ing an  article  about  this  part  of  the  country,  and  ought, 
certainly,  to  see  the  caves.  Dr.  Lester  is  going ;  and  he 
has  promised  to  see  Mr.  Prouter,  who  will  join  us,  I  know; 
and  the  Dalrymples.  They  were  here  this  morning  and 
I  asked  them.  At  first  Mrs.  Dalrymple  did  not  agree, 
but  when  she  had  heard  something  of  the  wonders  of  the 
caves,  she  said  she  and  her  daughter  would  go.  Norma 
and  I  will,  of  course,  be  of  the  party,  but  I  think  that 
father  will  not  care  to  join  us." 

"  Nor  shall  I,"  said  Dunworth. 

"  Don't  say  that,"  said  Ardis.  "  I  want  you  to  go.  It 
will  be  ever  so  much  pleasanter  for  all  of  us  if  you  are 
with  us.  So,  tell  me  at  once  that  you  will  join  us!  " 

"Ardis,"  said  Roger,  speaking  very  earnestly,  "  I  shall 
not  join  any  party  of  which  that  man  Surrey  is  one.  I 
tell  you  plainly  that  I  do  not  like  him,  and  do  not  wish  to 
associate  with  him.  And,  what  is  more,  Ardis,  I  shall  be 
very,  very  sorry  to  know  that  you  have  gone  on  this  ex- 
pedition. You  will  be  gone  three  days !  " 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Ardis,  "  for  I  have  twice  made  the 


104  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

trip,  and  the  two  nights  in  the  old  tavern  are  a  great  part 
of  the  fun." 

Roger  did  not  immediately  reply,  but  presently  he  said: 
"Of  course  the  only  thing  I  object  to  is  that  Surrey  is  to 
be  of  the  party." 

"And  what  right  have  you,"  asked  Ardis,  quietly,  "  to 
object  at  all  ?  I  simply  invite  you  to  join  a  party  which 
is  already  formed." 

"Ardis,"  said  Roger,  his  voice  not  altogether  steady,  so 
earnestly  did  he  speak,  "  I  am  sure  you  know  why  I  ob- 
ject. I  object  because  I  love  you,  and  because  it  gives 
me  a  pain  at  my  heart  to  think  that  you  are  willing  to 
go  off  on  this  three-days'  expedition  which  Surrey  cares 
nothing  about  except  that  it  will  give  him  no  end  of  op- 
portunities of  being  with  you.  He  is  utterly  unworthy  of 
you,  and  yet  he  has  come  down  here  for  no  other  object 
than  to  try  to  win  you." 

"Roger  Dunworth,"  said  Ardis,  fixing  her  dark  eyes 
earnestly  upon  him,  "  I  want  you  to  understand  me  better 
than  you  do.  I  wish  no  one  to  speak  to  me  of  love,  and 
I  forbid  you  to  do  it.  If  any  one  else  attempts  to  do  it, 
I  shall  forbid  him.  I  shall  say  no  more  to  you  about  my 
objects  in  life,  or  my  ambitions,  because  you  do  not  be- 
lieve in  them ;  but  I  wish,  for  years  to  come,  to  be  entirely 
independent  of  all  men,  except  my  father.  And  that 
wish  ought  to  be  sufficient  for  all  who  respect  me,  or  care 
for  me.  I  have  already  explained  this  to  you,  but  it 
seems  to  have  had  no  effect.  I  told  you  that  I  would  not 
consider  what  you  said  to  me,  and  that  you  should  be  to 
me  exactly  what  you  were  before  you  said  it." 

"Which  is  an  impossibility!  "  murmured  Roger. 

"  Now  this,"  continued  Ardis,  paying  no  attention  to 
the  interruption,  "  is  the  utmost  stretch  of  kindness,  which, 
under  the  circumstances,  a  woman  could  extend  toward  a 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  105 

man.  But  you  take  no  notice  of  my  desires,  or  of  my 
good  feeling,  and  come  to  me  on  the  footing  on  which  you 
choose  to  stand,  and  make  objections  to  my  plans  for  en- 
tertaining myself  and  my  friends.  Now  I  say  to  you, 
Roger  Dunworth,  that  I  wish  this  stopped." 

"It  shall  be  stopped,"  said  Roger.  And  he  went 
away. 

Contrary  to  Dunworth's  suppositions,  the  proposed  trip 
to  the  Ridgeby  Caves  was  not  altogether  acceptable  to 
Mr.  Surrey.  He  had  been  perfectly  satisfied  with  the 
way  things  had  been  going  on  in  the  studio,  and  was  quite 
sure  that  in  a  day  or  two  he  could  there  find,  or  make, 
the  opportunity  he  wished  for.  But  this  expedition  might 
interfere  with  his  purposes.  There  would  be  a  good  many 
people  together,  and  the  chances  for  his  monopoly  of 
Ardis  would  be  small.  If  he  could  have  managed  things 
his  own  way  he  would  have  had  the  entrance  to  the  caves 
covered  by  a  landslide ;  but  he  saw  that  it  would  be  un- 
wise in  him  to  object  to  a  scheme  proposed  for  the  pleasure 
of  a  large  party,  and  he  said  nothing  against  it. 

On  the  morning  on  which  the  expedition  was  to  start, 
when  baskets  and  valises  were  being  packed ;  when  the 
men  were  putting  horses  to  the  family  carriage  and  to 
a  light  wagon,  and  other  horses  were  being  saddled;  when 
guests  were  arriving,  and  all  the  varied  preparations  for 
the  expedition  were  making,  Jack  Surrey  sauntered  off 
by  himself.  His  valise  had  been  packed  in  five  minutes, 
and  as  Ardis  was  so  extremely  busy  the  house  possessed 
no  attractions  for  him.  He  walked  off  toward  the  studio. 

"Confound  it!  "  he  said  to  himself  as  he  looked  upon 
the  quiet  old  building,  "  I  ought  to  be  in  there  with  her 
now,  instead  of  gadding  off  on  this  stupid  picnic!  And 
there  is  our  old  model!  He  must  work  all  day  at  hauling 
wood  instead  of  sitting  at  his  ease  having  himself  immor- 


lo6  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

talized!  Hello!  Uncle  Shad!  This  is  a  wicked  world, 
isn't  it?" 

The  old  negro  stopped  on  his  way  to  the  woodhouse 
where  his  ox  wagon  was  standing,  touched  his  hat,  and 
answered :  "  Yes,  sah,  it's  a  pow'ful  wicked  worl' ;  but 
'tain't  no  wuss  than  'twas  yestidd'y,  is  it,  sah?  " 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  said  Surrey,  "  at  least  it  is  worse  than  it 
was  two  or  three  days  ago.  But  that  is  out  of  your  baili- 
wick, Uncle  Shad.  And,  by  the  way,  how  did  you  come 
by  such  a  name?  You  couldn't  have  had  an  ancestor 
who  was  a  fish,  and  I  don't  suppose  you  could  now  be 
considered  a  part  of  the  net  proceeds  of  this  farm." 

"  Dat  'spression's  too  deep  fer  my  understanding  Mister 
Surrey,"  said  the  old  man,  "  but  it's  easy  enough  to  tell 
you  all  about  de  name.  My  mudder,  she  sez,  sez  she,  to 
the  preacher  wot  mahr'ed  her,  '  I's  so  thankful  fer  de 
blessin's  I's  got  dar  I's  gwine  to  name  my  fust  three  boy 
babies  after  de  chillun  ob  Isr'el  wot  was  froun  into  de 
fiery  funniss.'  An'  when  I  was  bawn  she  name  me  Shad- 
rach,  but  de  udder  culled  people  made  a  deal  ob  fun  ob  dat 
name,  an'  when  Meshech  come  she  call  him  Granville, 
an'  Abednego  he  was  name  Jake." 

"  Shadrach,"  said  Mr.  Surrey,  "  I  am  sorry  you  are 
obliged  to  remain  in  the  fiery  furnace  while  your  two 
brothers  skipped  out,  but  if  half  a  dollar  will  be  of  any 
use  in  making  amends  for  your  fishy  abbreviation,  take 
that.  And  now  tell  me :  Is  it  necessary  for  you  to  haul 
wood  for  the  next  three  days?  " 

Uncle  Shad  looked  up,  a  little  surprised.  "  It's  nes'sary 
to  wu'k;  ef  'tain't  one  thing  it's  anudder.  I's  to  haul 
wood  fer  de  winter,  an'  ef  I  don't  haul  it  to-day  I  hauls  it 
to-morrer,  an'  I  keeps  on  till  I  gits  a  good  deal  more'n 
enough,  an'  den  I  stops." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Surrey.     "I  think  I  can  find 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  107 

you  something  to  do  for  a  few  days  which  will  be  more 
profitable  to  a  party  I  know  than  hauling  winter  wood." 
And  walking  quickly  to  the  house,,  he  proposed  to  Miss 
Claverden  that  Uncle  Shad  should  go  with  them  to  the 
caves,  to  make  himself  generally  useful  and  to  act  as 
model  when  needed. 

"  You  see,"  said  the  considerate  Jack,  "  that  if  we  come 
across  any  good  '  bits'  in  those  caves  it  will  be  a  capital 
thing  to  have  Uncle  Shad  along  to  put  into  the  sketch  in 
any  sort  of  character  that  we  may  think  is  needed.  You 
can't  depend  on  volunteer  models." 

Ardis  was  to  be  one  of  the  riders,  and  in  her  close- 
fitting  habit  and  riding  cap  she  seemed  to  Surrey  hand- 
somer than  he  had  ever  before  seen  her.  "  Mr.  Surrey," 
said  she,  leaning  against  one  side  of  the  open  doorway, 
her  arms  folded  and  her  riding  whip  dangling  from  one 
of  her  gloved  hands,  "  you  have  entirely  too  much  fore- 
sight for  this  part  of  the  country.  Down  here,  when  we 
go  off  on  a  trip  like  this  it  never  occurs  to  us  to  take  with 
us  models  in  addition  to  our  provisions  and  extra  wraps. 
We  would  as  soon  think  of  carrying  a  piano  or  an  ency- 
clopedia. And  what  is  more,  sir,  I  wish  it  understood 
that  I  am  not  going  on  this  little  excursion  to  draw  or  to 
work  in  any  way.  I  am  going  for  pure  amusement,  and 
I  shall  leave  my  paper,  pencils,  and  models  at  home. 
Now  don't  you  think  that  will  be  sensible?" 

Mr.  Surrey  felt  obliged  to  say  that  he  supposed  it  would 
be,  and  at  that  moment  Ardis  was  called  away  by  an 
urgent  summons  from  Norma.  When  she  left  him,  she 
smiled,  "  I  should  not  have  imagined  that  he  would  pro- 
pose such  a  transparent  scheme  for  dividing  the  party !  " 

Norma's  summons  was  a  very  important  one.  A  mes- 
sage had  just  arrived  from  Mrs.  Dalrymple  that  in  conse- 
quence of  the  unexpected  return  of  her  son  from  a  long 


io8  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

journey,  she  and  her  family  would  not  be  able  to  join  the 
expedition  to  the  Ridgeby  Caves.  This  was  a  disastrous 
blow.  Without  a  matron  how  could  there  be  a  party? 

"It  is  just  like  that  woman!  "  exclaimed  Norma.  "I 
have  only  seen  her  once,  but  I  know  her  through  and 
through.  She  agreed  to  go  because  it  gave  her  impor- 
tance, and  now,  after  we  have  taken  all  the  trouble  to  get 
everything  ready,  she  steps  back  simply  for  the  pleasure 
of  crushing  us." 

"  Of  course/'  said  Ardis,  "  this  settles  it." 

"  Of  course  it  does,"  said  Norma,  "  and  we  may  as  well 
go  out  and  tell  them  to  scatter  to  their  homes." 

Dr.  Lester  was  now  on  the  porch  with  Mr.  Surrey  and 
the  major;  and  Tom  Prouter,  accompanied  by  Mr.  Crup- 
pledean,  had  just  ridden  up.  Jack  Surrey  was  the  only 
one  of  the  gentlemen  who  received  the  news  with  equanim- 
ity. He  was  perfectly  satisfied  to  substitute  studio  ex- 
periences for  those  of  a  mountain  expedition.  Major 
Claverden  was  decidedly  angry,  but  he  expressed  himself 
with  moderation. 

"This  conduct  surprises  me,"  he  said.  "Did  she  not 
know  that  her  action  totally  subverts  the  purposes  and 
pleasures  of  a  large  party?  And  could  she  not  have 
brought  her  son  with  her?  Did  she  suppose  he  would  not 
be  made  welcome  as  one  of  her  family?"  And  unable 
to  say  more  without  committing  what  he  would  consider 
a  breach  of  decorum,  he  retired  to  the  library,  where  he 
walked  up  and  down  in  silence. 

Dr.  Lester  was  indignant  that  a  plan  proposed  and  de- 
sired by  Miss  Ardis  should  be  interfered  with;  and  Mr. 
Cruppledean,  who  had  come  prepared  to  enjoy  a  jolly 
jaunt,  was  downcast  to  find  that  the  opportunity  was  taken 
away  from  him. 

But  Tom  Prouter  was  rebellious.     By  dint  of  the  deep- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  109 

est  thought  and  wildest  exertion  he  had  given  himself  a 
three-days'  holiday.  He  had  hired  a  substitute,  with  orders 
to  ride  about  the  country  and  look  at  milch  cows ;  to  see 
that  the  men  were  at  work  early  and  late ;  to  overlook  the 
systematic  delivery  of  the  milk ;  to  dash  here  and  there 
and  everywhere  with  a  big  cattle  whip  in  his  hand  and 
his  mind  full  of  pans,  cans,  ensilage,  and  pasture.  He  i 
was  not  going  to  give  up  the  good  time  he  expected 
without  a  struggle. 

"I  wouldn't  stand  it,  Miss  Claverden,"  he  said,  "if  I 
were  you !  I  would  not  let  a  person  like  that  say  whether 
I  should  go  on  an  excursion  or  not.  Now  let  me  tell  you, 
if  you  really  think  it  is  necessary  to  have  an  elderly  party 
along  to  keep  us  quiet,  I'll  provide  one.  I'll  go  fetch  Miss 
Airpenny.  She  is  old  enough  to  have  been  dug  up  with 
the  Pharaohs.  She  hasn't  started  on  her  journey  yet  be- 
cause her  money  hasn't  come  from  home.  And  this  sort 
of  trip  will  be  just  the  thing  to  keep  her  from  grumbling. 
She'll  jump  at  it!  May  I  go  for  her,  Miss  Claverden?  I 
can  ride  to  Loch  Levin  in  half  an  hour  and  back  in  the 
same  time.  And  giving  her  fifteen  minutes  to  get  ready, 
I'll  have  her  here  in  an  hour  and  a  quarter." 

This  proposition  was  discussed  by  the  company,  al- 
though Surrey  did  not  say  much.  Norma  was  in  favor  of 
inviting  Miss  Airpenny;  she  had  never  seen  her,  and 
greatly  desired  to  do  so.  Ardis  reflected  a  little  before 
speaking.  She  had  proposed  this  expedition  partly  for 
the  Dalrymples.  She  was  not  greatly  interested  in  this 
family,  but  they  were  newcomers,  had  never  seen  the 
caves,  and  her  generous  disposition  prompted  her  to  invite 
them  to  go  there.  She  was,  however,  very  willing  to  go 
herself,  and  to  relieve  the  party  from  the  disappointment 
which  they  evidently  felt.  And  so,  after  a  few  words  with 
her  father,  she  consented  to  Mr.  Prouter's  plan. 


HO  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  do  not  expect  you  back  in  an  hour  and  a  quarter," 
she  said.  "  We  shall  have  an  early  dinner,  and  as  the 
moon  is  nearly  full,  it  will  not  matter  if  we  arrive  at  Pur- 
ley's  Tavern  a  little  late." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  her  mouth  when  Prouter 
was  down  the  steps,  on  his  horse,  and  off  at  a  mad  gallop. 
Ardis  had  intended  to  send  Miss  Airpenny  a  formal  invita- 
tion, but  no  time  had  been  given  her. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XL 

THE  early  dinner  was  nearly  ready  when  Cruppledean, 
who  was  smoking  his  pipe  under  the  trees,  suddenly 
shouted:  "Hi!  they  are  coming!"  And  in  a  moment 
after  Prouter  and  Miss  Airpenny  cantered  up  to  the 
house.  The  appearance  of  the  lady  was  calculated  to 
excite  attention.  She  was  somewhere  between  forty  and 
sixty  years  of  age ;  wore  a  man's  felt  hat,  with  her  fluffy 
brown  hair  flying  out  from  beneath  it  and  flapping  around 
her  ruddy,  weather-beaten  face,  and  was  dressed  in  a  red- 
dish-brown riding  habit,  very  long  in  the  skirt  and  fas- 
tened around  her  capacious  form  in  such  a  way  as  to  give 
her  the  appearance  of  two  large  brown  bags,  She  rode  a 
big  horse  on  a  hard  canter,  and  bounced  up  and  down  in 
a  way  that  made  observers  wonder  how  she  kept  her  seat. 
Before  assistance  could  reach  her  she  dismounted,  and 
came  forward  with  quick  and  vigorous  steps.  She  ac- 
cepted with  evident  gratification  the  welcome  given  her 
by  Major  Claverden  and  his  daughter,  and  gave  everybody 
present  an  energetic  hand-shake. 

"  Now,  really,"  said  she,  her  quick  blue  eyes  moving 
from  one  member  of  the  party  to  another,  "  I  am  very 
pleased  that  you  sent  Mr.  Prouter  to  fetch  me.  I  want 
to  see  those  Ridgeby  Caves,  and  I  should  have  gone  there 
before,  but  the  people  told  me  that  no  woman  ought  to 
ride  as  far  as  that  and  back  by  herself,  though  I  am  sure 
it  must  be  an  odd  sort  of  country  where  I  can't  do  that." 

Soon  after  dinner  the  party  started  off,  Miss  Airpenny 
on  her  big  horse,  for  when  it  was  possible  for  her  to  walk 


112  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

or  ride  she  disdained  a  carriage.  Norma  and  Dr.  Lester 
had  the  carriage  to  themselves  the  greater  part  of  the 
time,  although  toward  evening  they  were  joined  by  Ardis 
and  Mr.  Surrey;  the  latter  having  been  tired  of  riding 
some  time  before  he  changed  his  saddle  for  the  carriage 
seat. 

They  arrived  at  the  tavern,  half-way  up  the  mountain 
side,  before  the  light  of  the  moon  was  really  needed  to 
show  them  their  way,  and  as  Purley  was  always  expecting 
parties  of  this  kind,  a  hot  and  plentiful  supper  was  soon 
ready  for  them. 

Ardis  was  in  a  gay  and  genial  mood.  Her  healthy  soul 
and  body  liked  this  wild  country,  where  even  the  houses 
were  full  of  the  air  of  out-of-doors.  She  liked  Miss  Air- 
penny  too,  that  hearty,  rough  rider,  who  showed  such  an 
energetic  delight  in  the  excursion. 

When  they  first  set  out,  Ardis  had  been  quieter  than 
was  her  wont.  Two  things  had  weighed  a  little  on  her 
spirits.  One  was  Roger  Dunworth's  behavior.  Hereto- 
fore an  excursion  of  this  kind  without  Roger  Dunworth 
would  have  seemed  impossible.  He  was  always  looked 
upon  as  a  leader,  and  if  a  time  proposed  did  not  suit  his 
convenience  the  affair  was  postponed.  His  absence,  and 
more  than  that,  the  cause  of  it,  could  not  fail  to  be  dis- 
quieting. The  other  weight  was  a  lighter  one.  She  fan- 
cied that  Mr.  Surrey  would  like  to  take  advantage  of  this 
expedition  to  establish  a  closer  intimacy  between  them 
than  she  had  any  desire  for ;  and,  while  her  natural  in- 
trepidity of  spirit  forbade  any  fear  that  she  would  not  be 
able  to  regulate  her  intercourse  with  Mr.  Surrey  to  suit 
herself,  she  disliked  the  idea  that  any  such  regulation 
would  be  necessary. 

But  the  invigorating  air  of  the  mountain  and  the  in- 
spiriting motion  of  her  sprightly  mare  had  soon  driven  all 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  H3 

depression  from  her  mind ;  and  when  the  evening  grew  a 
little  chilly  at  the  setting  of  the  sun  and  she  entered  the 
carriage,  she  was  as  gay-hearted  a  girl  as  ever  laughed  on 
mountain  side. 

The  night  was  cool,  and  the  party  gathered  around  the 
wood  fire  in  the  tavern  parlor,  and  told  stories.  Dr. 
Lester  related  curious  facts  which  had  come  within  his 
reading  or  his  observation.  Miss  Airpenny  told  a  thrill- 
ing tale  of  how  she  had  once  been  nearly  precipitated  by 
the  pressure  of  an  inquisitive  crowd  of  tourists  into  the 
arms  of  a  reigning  sovereign.  Norma  told  of  an  old  lady 
in  a  gray  shawl,  with  long  finger  bones  coming  out  of  the 
ends  of  black  mittens,  who  was  supposed  to  be  a  Maria 
Lumsley,  who  married  a  Cranton  near  the  end  of  the  last 
century.  This  ancestor  regularly  appeared  in  an  upper 
unused  room  at  Heatherley  toward  evening  on  a  certain 
day  in  November,  but  as  the  particular  date  had  been 
forgotten,  Norma  declared  she  never  went  into  that  room 
in  the  month  of  November,  and  if  any  others  of  the 
family  had  happened  into  that  room  on  that  particular 
day  they  had  never  mentioned  it.  Mr.  Surrey  related 
with  admirable  effect  a  humorous  tale;  and  Ardis,  at 
Norma's  request,  related  a  little  romance  she  had  com- 
posed some  time  before.  It  was  a  story  of  the  Civil  War ; 
and  its  heroine  was  a  Southern  woman  who  had  a  married 
sister  in  the  North.  The  husband  of  this  sister,  at  the 
head  of  troops,  came  and  ravaged  the  estate  of  the  heroine, 
who,  being  of  a  proud  and  haughty  spirit,  disdained  to 
curry  favor  of  the  enemy  by  revealing  her  identity,  and 
saw  her  crops  destroyed  and  buildings  burned  without  al- 
lowing the  officer  conducting  the  devastation  to  know  that 
she  was  his  wife's  sister. 

"  That  is  the  kind  of  woman  I  like !  "    said  Norma  with 
sparkling  eyes.     "  That  is  true  patriotism !  " 
8 


114  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  do  not  feel  so  sure,"  said  Ardis,  "  as  when  I  wrote 
the  story,  that  she  did  right.  I  think  she  ought  to  have 
considered  her  sister's  feelings  as  well  as  her  own." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "  I  think  she  was 
an  arrant  fool.  If  such  a  woman  had  really  existed  I 
should  say  that  she  should  have  had  a  riding  whip  applied 
to  her  back  for  neglecting  to  take  care  of  her  husband's 
property  while  he  was  away  doing  his  duty  in  the  war." 

Dr.  Lester  stood  up  warmly  for  the  heroine,  as  he  would 
have  stood  up  for  any  heroine  created  by  Miss  Ardis. 

The  discussion  which  followed  was  ended  by  Ardis,  who 
declared  that  Mr.  Proirter  and  Mr.  Cruppledean  must 
each  tell  a  story  without  further  delay.  For  half  an  hour 
Cruppledean  had  been  revolving  in  his  mind  a  tradition 
of  an  old  family  ghost  which  he  thought  would  be  a  good 
thing  to  tell  when  his  turn  came ;  but  being  thus  suddenly 
called  upon,  the  whole  story,  ghost  and  all,  utterly  van- 
ished from  his  mind ;  and  he  was  obliged  to  admit  that  he 
had  nothing  to  tell. 

Prouter,  on  the  contrary,  was  quite  ready.  With  an 
air  of  briskness  and  alacrity  he  moved  himself  forward  to 
the  edge  of  his  chair,  sat  up  very  straight,  put  one  hand 
on  each  knee,  and  with  sparkling  eyes  and  glowing  cheeks 
began  to  tell  an  anecdote  of  a  farmer  of  Fligwich  who  ex- 
changed two  pigs  for  a  setting  goose,  and  by  the  virtue  of 
this  bargain  became  the  possessor  of  a  little  parlor  organ 
which  he  gave  to  the  dissenting  chapel  which  he  attended. 
Just  how  the  bargain  happened  to  turn  out  in  this  way, 
Mr.  Prouter  could  not  state,  having  forgotten  some  of  the 
points ;  but  it  struck  him  as  being  extraordinarily  odd, 
and  he  laughed  immensely  as  he  told  the  story. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  lively  story,  which  truly  amused 
everybody,  the  party  retired  to  their  rooms. 

Dr.  Lester  went  to  sleep  a  happy  man.     He  had  been 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  115 

all  day  with  Ardis ;  and  that  was  sufficient  for  him.  Mr. 
Surrey  retired  dissatisfied.  He  had  been  all  day  with 
Ardis ;  but  that  was  not  sufficient  for  him. 

Prouter  and  Cruppledean  had  beds  in  the  same  room. 
"  Cruppledean,"  said  the  former,  just  before  putting  his 
head  on  his  pillow,  "  did  you  ever  in  your  life  see  a  girl 
like  that?  Do  you  believe  it  would  be  possible  to  induce 
her  to  marry  a  man  who  sold  milk?  " 

"  No."  said  Cruppledean,  "  I  don't.  And  what  is  more 
I  don't  believe  she  would  marry  you,  no  matter  what  you 
sold,  nor  what  you  did  do,  nor  what  you  didn't  do! " 

"Really?"  said  Prouter. 

"  Yes,  really,"  was  the  answer. 

"Cruppledean,"  said  Prouter,  "you  can  put  out  the 
light."  And  he  dropped  his  head  on  the  pillow  and  pulled 
up  the  bed  coverings. 

After  an  early  breakfast  the  next  morning  a  lively  com- 
pany, under  the  charge  of  Purley  and  another  guide,  set 
out  to  explore  the  Ridgeby  Caves.  A  walk  of  half  a  mile 
brought  them  to  the  entrance  of  the  extensive  and  partially 
unexplored  caverns  which  ran  into  the  side  and  down  into 
the  depths  of  the  low  mountain  range  to  which  they  had 
travelled  the  day  before. 

There  was  much  to  be  seen  here  in  the  way  of  winding 
passages,  unfathomable  ravines,  and  chambers  large  and 
small,  high-domed  or  low-roofed;  all  hung  and  adorned 
with  stalactites  and  strange  and  curious  formations,  which 
water,  dripping  for  long  ages  through  porous  soil,  had 
produced  in  fantastic  profusion.  They  wandered  for 
hours,  all  the  party  interested,  and  Miss  Airpenny  filled 
with  enthusiastic  desire  to  guide  the  guides.  In  a  great 
circular  room,  from  the  ceiling  of  which  hung  a  massive 
structure,  which,  by  the  aid  of  lights  and  a  little  imagina- 
tion, might  be  made  into  a  very  good  chandelier,  they 


1 1 6  A  RDIS  CLA  VERDEN. 

ate  the  refreshments  they  had  brought  with  them.  Then 
they  set  out  on  their  return. 

Jack  Surrey  had  been  in  a  well-satisfied  mood  during 
their  progress  through  the  devious  windings  and  openings 
of  the  caves.  He  had  explored  caves  before,  but  this  one 
possessed  some  novel  features.  The  merry  companion- 
ship was  exactly  to  Mr.  Jack's  liking.  To  be  sure  he 
would  have  been  much  better  pleased  to  do  the  greater 
part  of  the  wandering  with  Ardis  only,  but  this,  of  course, 
was  impossible,  and  he  was  obliged  to  content  himself 
with  a  share  in  the  general  gayety  in  which  he  became  a 
leader. 

But  when  he  heard  that  in  returning  the  party  would 
retrace  the  route  by  which  they  had  traversed  the  caves, 
he  was  dissatisfied.  Going  back  over  the  same  road  was 
not  a  thing  that  suited  him.  He  urged  the  guides  to  take 
them  back  some  other  way,  but  they  declared  no  other 
route  had  yet  been  opened.  Surrey  was  therefore  com- 
pelled to  go  with  the  rest  of  the  party  over  the  same 
ground  they  had  travelled  before ;  but  he  lagged  behind, 
with  his  candle,  looking  into  dark  openings  to  the  right  or 
left,  and  resolving  to  call  the  company  back  if  he  found 
anything  novel.  He  saw  nothing,  however,  of  any  im- 
portance ;  but  when  they  were  not  very  far  from  the  en- 
trance to  the  caves  he  remembered  a  large  opening  which 
they  had  passed  shortly  after  coming  in,  and  about  which 
he  had  spoken  to  Purley,  who  told  him  that  it  was  too 
full  of  obstructions  to  admit  of  the  entrance  of  a  party. 

Jack  was  not  easily  deterred  by  obstructions  when  he 
wanted  to  do  anything,  and  he  determined  to  take  a  look 
into  this  opening.  So  he  fell  back,  considerably  behind 
the  others;  and  when  he  reached  the  yawning  aperture, 
which  he  well  remembered,  he  quietly  slipped  into  it. 
There  was  no  danger  that  he  would  lose  his  way  when  he 


ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN.  117 

came  out,  for  he  could  see  at  a  distance  the  bright  twinkle 
of  the  lantern  which  stood  at  the  bottom  of  the  steps 
which  led  up  to  the  entrance  to  the  caves. 

Holding  up  his  candle,  Surrey  could  see  that  he  was  in 
a  large  cavern,  the  floor  of  which  was  tolerably  smooth, 
and  where  the  only  obstacles  to  his  progress  were  the 
great,  pointed  stalactites  which  hung  down  from  the  low 
roof.  With  a  light,  however,  it  was  easy  to  avoid  these ; 
and  he  went  on  a  short  distance,  until  he  came  to  an  open- 
ing on  the  right  which  led  into  another  cave,  at  the  en- 
trance to  which  lay  some  rough  blocks  of  stone.  Stepping 
over  these,  he  entered  the  second  cave ;  and,  raising  his 
candle,  looked  about  him.  He  was  in  a  rocky  chamber 
very  like  the  other  except  that  the  roof  was  higher  and 
there  did  not  seem  to  be  so  many  stalactites.  Some  of 
these,  however,  were  very  long,  and  hung  low.  He  was 
about  to  step  forward  to  discover,  if  possible,  the  extent 
of  this  cavern,  when,  suddenly,  something  dark  appeared 
at  his  shoulder,  and  instantly  his  light  was  blown  out. 

With  an  exclamation  Surrey  turned  quickly ;  but  all  was 
black  about  him;  such  wall-like  darkness  he  had  never 
imagined.  But  he  had  little  time  to  think  of  this,  for,  in 
the  next  instant,  he  received  a  powerful  blow  on  the  side 
of  his  neck,  almost  instantly  followed  by  another  in  the 
back  of  his  head.  With  a  quick  turn  Surrey  stretched  out 
his  arms,  and  grappled  something.  At  the  first  touch  of 
this  something  Surrey  fancied  that  he  had  hold  of  a  huge 
reptile,  for  it  was  cold  and  smooth  and  damp ;  but  another 
blow  delivered  on  his  breast  and  his  instant  seizure  of  the 
arm  which  gave  it,  assured  him  that  he  had  a  man  to  deal 
with. 

Surrey  was  strong,  brave,  and  a  first-rate  boxer.  Sur- 
prise had  given  way  to  anger,  and  with  a  muttered  curse 
he  sent  a  heavy  right-hand  blow  at  the  man  he  held. 


Il8  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

There  was  no  time  for  expostulation  or  even  outcry,  for 
the  man  now  closed  with  him  and  endeavored  to  throw 
him  to  the  ground.  This,  with  a  tough  fellow  like  Surrey, 
was  no  easy  matter,  and  the  ensuing  struggle  became  a 
violent  one ;  in  the  midst  of  which  Surrey  remembered 
that  his  greatest  danger  might  result  from  striking  one  of 
the  stalactites  which  hung  from  the  roof.  He,  therefore, 
endeavored  to  throw  the  man,  in  order  that  the  fight  might 
be  continued  on  the  ground,  but  his  assailant  was  wiry  and 
agile,  and  evidently  wore  no  shoes — for  his  feet  made  no 
sound  on  the  ground — and  this  gave  him  an  advantage 
over  Surrey  on  the  wet  and  slippery  floor. 

The  next  instant  proved  that  Surrey's  fears  were  well 
founded,  for  the  two  struck  together  against  a  great  stalac- 
tite with  such  force  that  they  broke  it  off,  and  it  fell  with 
a  thud  that  shook  the  ground.  "  Now  down  we  must  go! " 
thought  Surrey — for  he  knew  that  if  his  head  had  struck 
that  stalactite  it  would  have  been  all  over  with  him — and 
by  a  tremendous  effort  he  lifted  his  antagonist  a  few 
inches,  giving  him  at  the  same  time  a  sudden  twist.  The 
man  lost  his  footing  but  retained  his  vigorous  clutch  on 
Surrey,  and  the  two  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

Surrey  now  had  but  one  thought,  and  that  was  to  kill 
the  man,  or  devil,  or  whatever  it  was,  who  had  attacked 
him  in  this  atrocious  and  dastardly  way.  But  his  assailant 
was  difficult  to  kill.  Blow  after  blow  Jack  poured  in  upon 
him  as  they  struggled  on  the  floor,  but  blow  after  blow  he 
received  from  the  mute  and  furious  being  with  whom  he 
strove.  Once  he  thought  he  heard  voices,  but  he  had  no 
breath  with  which  to  call  out.  All  his  powers  were  re- 
quired to  keep  his  savage  enemy  from  getting  the  better 
of  him. 

They  rolled  upon  the  floor,  sometimes  one  uppermost, 
sometimes  the  other,  but  Surrey  never  tried  to  rise,  for 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  U9 

fear  of  the  stalactites.  On  the  wet  and  slime  of  the  floor 
he  knew  that  he  must  finish  the  fight.  And  there  he  fin- 
ished it.  By  a  sudden  and  powerful  effort  he  put  himself 
on  his  knees  with  the  man  beneath  him,  and  from  this 
advantageous  position  he  dealt  several  quick  and  heavy 
blows  upon  the  body  of  his  foe.  At  this  the  man  released 
his  hold  upon  him,  and  by  a  quick  roll  jerked  himself  loose 
from  Surrey's  grasp,  and  slipped  away,  like  a  snake,  into 
the  blackness. 

Surrey  remained  on  his  knees,  panting  for  breath.  He 
had  not  killed  the  villain.  Would  he  attack  him  again? 
He  remained  motionless  and  listened,  but  not  so  much  as 
the  pat  of  a  bare  foot  upon  the  floor  could  he  hear.  He 
knew  not  how  long  he  had  retained  this  position,  when  he 
felt  that  he  was  getting  weak  and  that  he  must  lose  no 
time  in  making  his  way  out  of  this  place. 

Surrey  had  been  in  serious  plights  before  this  day,  and 
was  accustomed  to  quick  thinking.  He  remembered  that 
he  had  made  but  few  steps  into  this  second  chamber  when 
he  had  stopped  to  look  about  him.  In  the  struggle  which 
had  followed  the  extinguishment  of  the  light  it  was  not 
probable  that  he  had  moved  very  far  from  the  place  where 
he  had  stopped.  His  greatest  difficulty,  therefore,  would 
be  to  discover  which  way  he  must  go  in  order  to  reach 
the  opening  between  the  second  cave  and  the  first.  His 
greatest  danger  was  that  his  assailant,  having  recovered  a 
little  breath  and  vigor,  might  attack  him  again ;  and  this 
time,  perhaps,  with  a  weapon.  The  striking  of  a  match 
and  the  search  for  his  candle  would  betray  his  position  to 
the  other;  but  this  he  determined  to  risk.  The  rascal 
was  probably  as  badly  used  up  as  he  was,  and  no  matter 
what  might  happen,  he  must  try  to  get  out  of  this  place. 

He  felt  for  his  match-box,  but  found  that  part  of  the 
skirt  of  his  coat  containing  the  pocket  with  the  matches 


120  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

in  it  had  been  torn  off  in  the  combat.  He  felt  around 
him  in  every  direction,  but  could  not  discover  it.  There 
was  nothing  now  to  be  done  but  to  find  the  opening  with- 
out a  light.  He  must  grope  for  a  few  yards  in  a  straight 
line  from  the  spot  where  he  knelt,  and  then  endeavor  to 
move  sidewise  without  increasing  his  distance  from  the 
central  point  from  which  he  started.  If  he  could  do  this, 
he  thought  he  must  reach  the  opening  of  the  chamber. 
Should  he  encounter  his  enemy  he  must  do  his  best. 
There  was  no  use  in  thinking  any  more  about  that  con- 
tingency. 

On  his  hands  and  knees  Surrey  crept  forward  for  about 
twenty  feet ;  then  he  put  up  his  hand  to  feel  before  him, 
but  touched  nothing.  Moving  sidewise,  and  trying  not 
to  go  either  backward  or  forward,  he  was  touched  on  the 
shoulder  by  a  sharp  point,  and  he  suddenly  shrank  back 
as  from  the  knife  of  a  foe,  but  putting  out  his  hand  he 
found  that  this  was  a  stalactite  which  reached  down  to 
within  a  short  distance  of  the  floor.  Passing  this  he  soon 
found  himself  among  other  stalactites,  close  together,  and 
cold  and  hard,  like  great  javelins  ready  to  drop  upon  him 
in  the  blackness.  He  knew  that  he  had  passed  through 
no  such  obstructions  as  these,  and  so,  backing  a  little,  he 
continued  to  move  in  a  sidelong  direction. 

Several  times  he  crept  forward  and  stretched  out  his 
arm,  but  touched  nothing.  Then  he  receded  a  little,  and 
endeavored  to  keep  on  in  his  circular  course.  Presently, 
in  putting  out  his  hand,  he  touched  what  seemed  to  be 
an  upright  rock.  Rising  cautiously  to  his  feet,  with  his 
hand  over  his  head  to  protect  himself  from  down-reaching 
points,  he  found  that  he  was  in  front  of  a  rough  wall. 
Moving  slowly  along  this,  with  his  hands  upon  its  surface, 
he  soon  came  to  a  break  in  it.  Reaching  downward  he 
felt  a  line  of  low  rocks  a  foot  or  two  in  height,  and  his 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  I2i 

heart  leaped  with  joy.  This  he  believed  was  a  slight  wall 
over  which  he  had  stepped  when  entering  this  second 
chamber. 

Clambering  over  this  wall,  Surrey  felt  sure  he  was  in 
the  cave  he  had  first  entered  when  he  left  the  main  pas- 
sage. He  remembered  that  he  had  turned  to  his  right  in 
order  to  go  into  the  second  chamber,  and  he,  therefore, 
began  immediately  to  make  his  way  toward  the  left.  The 
stalactites  in  this  cave  hung  lower  than  in  the  second  one, 
and  on  this  account  he  was  afraid  to  walk  upright,  and 
proceeded  on  his  hands  and  knees.  Frequently  his  course 
was  impeded  by  strong  bars  coming  down  from  the  roof 
or  up  from  the  floor,  but  he  guarded  his  head  as  well  as 
he  could,  and  moved  slowly.  Sometimes  the  stalactites 
hung  so  close  together  that  he  knew  he  must  be  out  of 
the  path  he  had  taken  when  he  passed  through  the  cave 
with  his  light.  He  would  then  slightly  alter  his  course. 

He  groped  on,  he  knew  not  how  long  nor  how  far,  until 
at  last,  meeting  with  no  more  stalactites,  he  was  seized 
by  a  sudden  fear  that  perhaps  he  had  got  into  a  place 
where  he  had  never  been  before ;  and,  for  the  first  time, 
a  chill  of  terror  passed  through  him.  As  long  as  he  could 
imagine  the  place  where  he  was  from  having  been  in  it, 
his  courage  stood  by  him,  but  this  horrible  emptiness  of 
blackness  bewildered  him,  and  he  was  afraid.  He  raised 
his  head,  and  called  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Up  to 
this  time  he  had  made  no  outcry.  His  reason  had  told 
him  that  if  his  party  were  near  enough  to  hear  him  he 
would  hear  them,  and  throughout  his  whole  progress 
through  the  darkness  he  had  endeavored  to  move  so 
quietly  that  no  sound  made  by  him  should  enable  his  as- 
sailant to  follow  him. 

Now  he  forgot  everything  and  called  out,  but  his  voice 
sounded  muffled  and  weak. 


122  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

What  help  could  he  expect  from  a  call  like  that? 
Nervously  trembling,  and  unwilling  to  move  an  inch  for- 
ward, he  turned  completely  about,  and  there,  before  his 
eyes  but  far  away,  he  saw  a  twinkle  of  light. 

He  felt  the  glad  blood  rushing  to  his  face.  Now  he 
knew  where  he  was.  He  had  actually  made  his  way  into 
the  main  passage,  but  had  been  moving  in  the  wrong  di- 
rection. He  rose  to  his  feet,  and  with  arms  stretched 
before  him,  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  light,  he  stepped 
forward  as  rapidly  as  possible.  That  twinkling  lantern  in 
the  distance  simply  indicated  its  own  position ;  it  shed 
no  light  upon  his  path.  Sometimes  he  stumbled  against 
the  wall  on  one  side,  and  sometimes  he  struck  it  on  the 
other;  now  the  footway  was  smooth;  and  then  he  found 
it  rough  and  jagged.  But  with  his  eyes  on  the  light  he 
kept  straight  on. 

He  began  to  be  very  tired,  and  again  he  called  out,  but 
his  voice  seemed  to  penetrate  only  a  yard  or  two.  He 
walked  on,  though  much  slower  than  at  first,  until  he 
reached  the  lantern  and  the  bottom  of  the  steep  steps  that 
led  up  to  the  little  house  built  over  the  entrance  to  the 
caves.  For  a  minute  or  two  he  sat  upon  the  bottom  step 
to  rest,  and  then,  on  his  hands  and  feet,  he  clambered  up. 
He  reached  the  top  of  the  stairway,  and  staggered  to  the 
open  door  of  the  house.  The  day  was  cool  for  the  season 
and  the  afternoon  was  well  advanced,  but  coming  from 
the  low  temperature  of  the  caves,  it  seemed  to  Surrey  as 
if  he  had  stepped  into  the  hot  air  of  a  furnace,  and  he 
gasped  for  breath. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  123 


CHAPTER   XII. 

OCARCELY  had  he  made  a  step  from  the  door  of  the 
O  little  house,  scarcely  had  he  taken  a  breath  of  the 
outer  air  which  seemed  to  him  so  suffocating,  when  Jack 
Surrey  heard  sudden  cries  from  female  voices,  and  turning, 
he  saw  Ardis  and  Norma  sitting  under  the  shade  of  a  tree. 
Instantly  the  two  girls  arose  and  ran  toward  him. 

"Mr.  Surrey !"  exclaimed  Ardis,  "what  is  the  matter 
with  you?  Where  have  you  been?  " 

Surrey  presented  good  cause  for  amazement.  His  face 
was  pallid  and  smeared  with  dirt;  his  clothes  were  torn 
and  covered  with  dingy  white  slime  from  the  floor  of  the 
cave;  his  form  was  trembling  as  he  stood;  and,  worse 
than  all,  from  his  left  arm,  from  which  the  coat  sleeve  was 
nearly  torn  away,  blood  came  dripping  down,  drop  by 
drop,  upon  the  ground. 

Norma  shrieked.     "  He  is  bleeding!  "  she  cried. 

Surrey  smiled  a  weak,  faint  smile.  "  I  have  had  a  rough 
time,"  he  said.  "  Tell  you  about  it  after  awhile.  Didn't 
know  I  was  cut.  I  must  sit  down." 

"  He  is  faint ! "  said  Ardis.  "  Norma,  is  there  any 
water?" 

Norma  dashed  into  the  little  house.  There  was  a 
pitcher  on  a  table,  but  it  was  empty.  She  seized  it  and 
came  running  out.  She  stopped  for  a  moment,  looking 
about  her.  "  There  must  be  water  down  the  hill,"  she 
said.  "  I  will  get  some ;  "  and  away  she  ran. 

Surrey  sat  down  at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  his  back  against 
the  trunk.  Ardis  took  out  her  handkerchief,  and  ap- 


124  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

preached  him.  Her  face  was  full  of  pity,  but  she  asked 
no  questions. 

"  Let  me  tie  up  the  cut/'  she  said.  "  It  must  not  be 
allowed  to  bleed  in  that  way." 

Surrey  looked  at  his  arm.  The  lower  part  of  the  shirt 
sleeve  had  been  torn  away,  and  a  few  inches  above  his 
wrist  there  was  a  jagged  wound  which  had  no  doubt  been 
cut  by  a  sharp  stone  in  the  course  of  the  mad  struggle  in 
the  cave.  "  I  wondered  why  I  felt  so  weak,"  he  said. 
"  It  wasn't  natural.  Please  tie  it  up." 

Ardis  felt  a  sort  of  dread  coming  over  her.  Mr.  Surrey 
looked  so  pale  and  so  wonderfully  changed  from  the 
robust  man  who  had  gone  into  the  caves,  that  she  thought 
he  must  have  been  bleeding  for  a  long  time,  and  might 
die  before  her  eyes.  But  this  feeling  did  not  cause  her 
to  hesitate  an  instant.  Kneeling  down  beside  him,  she 
prepared  to  put  her  handkerchief  around  his  arm. 

"  Twist  it  up,"  said  Surrey,  "  and  tie  it  below  the  cut. 
It's  a  vein." 

Ardis  did  as  she  was  directed.  By  Surrey's  wish  she 
pulled  it  tight  with  all  her  force,  and  tied  it  in  a  hard  knot. 

"  Where  are  all  the  people?  "  asked  Surrey.  His  voice 
was  low,  and  he  spoke  in  short  sentences,  but  his  desire 
to  talk  had  not  left  him. 

"  They  have  gone  to  look  for  you,"  said  Ardis.  "  Every- 
body went  but  Norma  and  me.  Mr.  Purley  thought  you 
had  taken  a  path  a  long  way  back  which  looks  very  much 
like  the  proper  passage,  but  which  leads  to  some  deep 
place  or  other.  He  did  not  want  any  woman  to  go,  but 
Miss  Airpenny  would  not  be  turned  back.  She  said  you 
might  need  a  nurse.  I  wish  she  were  here !  I  really  be- 
lieve that  place  is  bleeding  as  badly  as  ever!  " 

Surrey  did  not  wish  Miss  Airpenny  were  there,  but  he 
forbore  from  saying  so.  He  turned  his  eyes  from  Ardis 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  125 

to  his  arm.  "  That  is  so,"  he  said.  "  The  ligature  does 
not  press  the  vein.  If  you  would  put  your  thumb  on  it  I 
think  you  might  stop  the  bleeding  until  some  one  comes." 

Ardis  did  not  think  that  perhaps  he  had  strength 
enough  to  put  his  own  thumb  on  the  vein,  but  pulling 
down  the  useless  handkerchief  she  clasped  his  arm  with 
her  right  hand,  and  placed  her  thumb  here  and  there  until 
she  put  it  over  the  vein  and  saw  that  the  pressure  stopped 
the  flow  of  blood. 

Kneeling  thus  by  the  half-prostrate  man,  and  holding 
his  wrist  in  her  hand,  she  looked  from  side  to  side,  and 
listened.  Oh,  that  somebody  would  come !  At  any  mo- 
ment he  might  swoon,  or  even  die  before  her! 

Surrey  felt  very  much  exhausted,  but  his  position  was  a 
restful  one  to  his  body  and  a  most  animating  one  to  his 
mind.  Here  was  the  beautiful  woman  he  loved,  kneeling 
by  his  side,  checking  the  flow  of  his  life  blood  with  her 
soft  hand,  and  her  lovely  eyes  filled  with  pity  and  anxiety 
for  him.  And,  better  than  all,  she  was  here  alone  with 
him. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  to  find  any  man,  except 
Surrey,  who  would  have  thought  this  a  fitting  moment  in 
which  to  declare  his  affection  for  the  woman  who  was 
thus  ministering  to  him  in  his  sad  condition.  Few  men 
would  have  considered  themselves  able  in  such  a  case  to 
speak  their  minds ;  and  fewer  still  would  have  dared  to 
presume  upon  the  opportunity.  But  Surrey  generally  felt 
himself  able  to  do  what  he  wanted  to  do;  and  as  for  dar- 
ing, that  was  a  part  of  his  nature.  This  was  one  of  the 
chances  to  speak  with  Ardis  which  he  had  been  hoping 
for ;  and,  indeed,  better  than  anything  he  had  hoped  for, 
for  it  was  plain  enough  that  her  thoughts  were  fixed 
earnestly  on  him. 

"Ardis,"  said  he,  "  for  a  long  time  I  have  worshipped 


126  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

you  as  an  angel,  and  it  seems  so  fitting  that  it  should  be 
you  who  are  with  me  now.  You  are  my  angel !  Dear  love, 
will  you  not  be  always  that?  Will  you  not  be  my  wife?  }> 

The  blood  rushed  into  the  face  of  Ardis.  Anger,  as- 
tonishment, contempt,  and  even  horror,  struggled  within 
her.  She  made  a  motion  as  if  to  spring  to  her  feet,  and 
then  suddenly  remembered  that  if  she  released  her  hold 
on  that  man's  wrist  his  remaining  blood  might  ebb  from 
him  and  leave  him  dead  before  her!  It  was  so  absolutely 
necessary  to  stop  the  bleeding  that  even  now  she  would 
not  remove  her  hand.  To  upbraid  this  pallid  sufferer, 
perhaps  upon  the  verge  of  death,  was  impossible!  To 
say  anything  was  impossible !  Oh,  that  some  one  would 
come !  that  some  one  would  come !  Her  face,  her  whole 
body,  seemed  on  fire. 

Her  silence  emboldened  Surrey.  "  Will  you  not  speak 
to  me,  my  love?"  he  said.  And  slowly  raising  his  right 
hand  he  extended  it  toward  her.  She  was  about  to  tell 
him  that  if  he  touched  her  she  would  drop  his  arm  and 
let  him  bleed,  when  she  heard  the  sound  of  horse's  hoofs 
upon  the  stony  road  near  by;  and  in  a  moment  around  a 
clump  of  bushes,  not  a  hundred  feet  away,  there  came  a 
mounted  man.  With  joy  in  her  eyes  Ardis  recognized 
Roger  Dunworth. 

The  horse  stopped  with  a  sudden  jerk.  The  eyes  of 
Dunworth  stood  wide  and  wild  in  his  face,  over  which 
fell  a  sudden  mask  of  anguish  and  dismay.  He  sat  as 
if  he  had  been  struck  stiff  by  an  electric  shock. 

During  the  night  after  he  had  parted  with  Ardis,  and 
all  through  the  next  day  and  the  next  night,  Roger  had 
thought  and  rethought,  and  had  tortured  his  brain  with 
all  manner  of  things.  He  was  most  earnestly  in  love,  and 
his  earnestness  had  become  wild  distraction,  and  his  dis- 
traction fierce  jealousy  as  he  thought  of  his  rival,  that 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  127 

comparative  stranger,  spending  these  three  days  of  excur- 
sion with  Ardis.  It  mattered  not  to  him  how  many  others 
were  in  the  party,  or  who  they  were ;  it  maddened  him  to 
think  of  Ardis  riding  with  this  man,  walking  with  him, 
being  with  him  through  these  three  days.  It  was  cruel  in 
her,  knowing  what  she  did,  to  do  this  thing;  to  scorn  his 
feelings,  and  to  put  this  misery  on  him. 

And  then  there  had  come  a  revulsion  of  feeling.  He 
had  been  cruel.  He  should  have  gone  with  her.  She 
wanted  him  to  go.  She  had  asked  him.  His  presence 
would  have  protected  her  from  the  attentions  of  this  man. 
He  had  behaved  basely  in  treating  her  invitation  as  he 
had  treated  it.  But  back  to  him  came  the  thought  that 
his  feelings  had  been  entirely  disregarded.  She  had  gone 
off  with  this  man,  not  caring  whether  or  not  her  going 
hurt  to  the  death  the  friend  of  her  youth,  her  declared 
lover!  And  this,  too,  when  there  had  been  an  opportunity 
to  give  up  the  expedition ;  for  he  had  heard  of  the  with- 
drawal of  the  Dalrymple  family. 

On  this  morning,  however,  his  feelings  regarding  him- 
self, regarding  Ardis,  and  regarding  Surrey,  had  all  united 
to  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  remain  any  longer  at 
home  while  these  others  had  gone  wandering  away  to- 
gether. If  she  wanted  his  company  at  the  Ridgeby  Caves, 
he  must  go ;  if  she  did  not  want  him  he  must  go.  And 
he  saddled  his  horse  and  went. 

At  the  sight  of  Ardis  and  Surrey  alone  together,  sitting 
close  to  each  other  under  the  shade  of  a  tree,  she  with 
her  face  flushed  by  emotion  and  holding  him  by  the  hand, 
Roger  stopped,  and  to  him  the  whole  world  stopped.  He 
did  not  notice  Surrey's  pallor,  nor  his  disordered  condi- 
tion. He  only  knew  that  it  was  he,  and  that  Ardis  was 
kneeling  close  to  him  with  flushed  face  and  holding  his 
hand. 


128  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

To  a  soul  so  stirred  and  torn,  this  blow  was  too  heavy. 
His  head  sank  upon  his  breast,  and  with  a  groan  that  was 
almost  like  a  cry,  he  whirled  his  horse  around  and  dashed 
away. 

The  delight  which  had  sprung  up  in  Ardis'  heart  when 
she  first  perceived  Roger,  vanished  when  she  fairly  looked 
upon  his  face.  Instantly  she  knew  all  that  he  thought, 
and  that  knowledge  driving  from  her  mind  everything  else, 
she  dropped  Surrey's  wrist  and  rose  to  her  feet,  her  lips 
parted  to  speak.  But  it  was  too  late.  All  that  Roger 
had  seen,  all  that  he  had  felt  had  been  seen  and  felt  in  a 
moment.  The  next  moment  he  was  gone! 

Ardis  made  some  quick  steps  forward,  as  pale  now  as 
the  man  who  leaned  against  the  tree.  She  looked  down 
the  road,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen,  although  she 
could  still  hear  the  clatter  of  hoofs  upon  the  stones. 

Surrey  had  seen  all,  and  the  corners  of  his  mouth  fell 
grimly.  In  the  hand  which  had  been  extended  toward 
Ardis  he  took  his  wounded  wrist,  and  pressed  upon  the 
vein.  Whatever  had  happened  or  might  happen,  it  would 
not  do  for  him  to  lose  any  more  of  his  strength. 

There  was  a  quick  crushing  through  underbrush  and 
Norma,  panting,  red-faced,  and  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water, 
came  hurrying  up.  The  little  stream  in  the  ravine  had 
been  dry  and  she  had  pushed  through  bushes  and  briers 
to  a  spring  she  knew  of.  The  way  by  the  course  she  took 
was  difficult,  and  every  hindrance  was  increased  by  her 
nervous  fear  that  the  man  would  swoon  or  die  before  she 
got  back. 

Ardis  had  not  yet  found  the  heart  nor  Norma  the  breath 
to  speak  to  each  other,  and  the  latter  was  approaching 
Surrey  with  the  water — although  what  to  do  with  it  she 
did  not  know — when  voices,  clear  and  loud,  were  heard; 
and  Purley,  followed  by  Miss  Airpenny  and  Dr.  Lester, 


ARDIS   CLAVEKDEN.  129 

came  running  from  the  little  house.  Not  finding  any 
trace  of  Surrey  along  the  passage  they  had  supposed  he 
had  taken,  one  of  the  guides,  with  Prouter  and  Crupple- 
dean,  had  gone  back  along  the  main  route,  while  Purley 
and  the  two  others  had  hurried  on  toward  the  entrance  to 
explore  some  of  the  chambers  they  had  passed.  In  one 
of  these  they  found  part  of  Surrey's  coat,  his  candle 
trampled  to  pieces,  and  blood  spots  on  the  floor.  By 
these  spots  they  traced  him  to  the  entrance. 

The  newcomers  made  rapid  and  excited  inquiries  as  to 
what  had  happened,  but  Surrey  shook  his  head  and  de- 
clined to  talk  on  the  subject  until  he  felt  better.  When 
she  found  he  was  wounded,  Miss  Airpenny  was  instantly 
down  on  her  knees  beside  him. 

"  Doctor,"  she  said,  "  you  must  attend  to  this  wound 
instantly!" 

The  doctor  stepped  forward.  "  I  must  beg  to  be  ex- 
cused," he  said.  "I  never  practice  either  medicine  or 
surgery.  I  will  do  whatever  I  can  for  this  gentleman,  but 
I  do  not  attend  to  wounds." 

A  sharp  inquiry  as  to  why  he  allowed  himself  to  be 
called  doctor  was  on  Miss  Airpenny's  lips,  but  there  was 
no  time  to  waste  in  remarks  of  this  sort,  and  she  said : 
"  Has  anybody  a  fish-hook  about  him?  " 

Dr.  Lester  felt  in  his  waistcoat  pocket.  He  had  all 
sorts  of  things  about  him,  and  soon  produced  a  small  fish- 
hook. "  I  have  also  a  bit  of  adhesive  plaster,"  he  said, 
"  and  a  pair  of  scissors  and  a  piece  of  thread." 

"  Give  them  to  me,"  said  Miss  Airpenny.  Directing 
Surrey  to  take  his  thumb  from  his  wrist,  Miss  Airpenny 
discovered  by  the  flow  of  blood  the  exact  position  of  the 
broken  vein,  and  with  the  point  of  the  fish-hook  she  gently 
drew  it  out,  and  while  Purley  held  it  she  deftly  tied  it  up 
with  a  silk  thread.  Then  she  released  it,  closed  up  the 
9 


130  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

wound,  and  placed  several  strips  of  adhesive  plaster  across 
it  to  keep  the  edges  together.  After  which  she  made  a 
ligature  of  a  twisted  handkerchief  which  she  passed 
around  the  arm  below  the  cut  and  tied  loosely.  A  com- 
press made  of  a  little  wad  from  another  handkerchief  was 
placed  over  the  vein,  and  with  a  short  stick  the  handker- 
chief was  twisted  until  the  compress  was  held  so  firmly  on 
the  vein  that  there  was  no  danger  of  undue  pressure  on 
the  silken  ligature  .during  the  removal  of  the  patient. 
With  the  remaining  handkerchiefs  of  the  party  the  stick 
was  secured  in  position  and  a  sling  was  made  for  the  arm. 

"Now  then,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "has  anybody  any 
whiskey?" 

Purley  had  some ;  and  when  a  small  dose  was  adminis- 
tered, Miss  Airpenny  declared  that  the  man  was  ready  to 
be  moved  if  there  was  any  way  of  moving  him  except  on 
his  own  legs. 

Surrey,  who  had  had  a  good  rest,  and  who  already  felt 
invigorated  by  the  whiskey,  said  that  he  could  walk  to  the 
tavern  if  he  had  a  little  help ;  and  having  been  raised  to 
his  feet,  Dr.  Lester  and  Purley,  both  strong  men,  took 
hold  of  him,  one  under  each  arm,  and  gave  him  such  sup- 
port that  his  own  legs  had  a  very  easy  time  of  it  during 
the  slow  walk  to  the  tavern.  Miss  Airpenny  walked 
sometimes  before,  sometimes  behind  this  group,  grati- 
fied to  see  that  her  patient  bore  the  little  journey  very 
well. 

During  this  scene  Ardis  and  Norma  had  stood  together, 
but  apart  from  the  others.  In  the  heart  of  Ardis  there 
was  a  dim  feeling  of  thankfulness  that  Norma  had  been 
with  her  when  the  people  came  from  the  cave,  but  it  was 
so  mixed  up  with  other  feelings  that  she  scarcely  recog- 
nized it. 

"  You   must   have   been   dreadfully    frightened,"   said 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  131 

Norma,  "  for  you  are  almost  as  pale  as  Mr.  Surrey !  I  am 
very  sure  that  if  a  man  is  on  the  point  of  fainting  away  or 
anything  like  that,  I  should  rather  go  off  and  do  something 
than  stay  with  him." 

"Do  I  look  pale?"  said  Ardk.     "I  have  been— 

"  Nearly  scared  out  of  your  wits,"  said  Norma,  "  for  fear 
the  man  should  expire  before  your  very  eyes !  I  under- 
stand that  feeling  perfectly,  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  your 
nerves  gave  way.  I  was  dreadfully  upset  myself,  rushing 
about  after  water  and  being  afraid  something  would  hap- 
pen before  I  could  get  back !  And  do  you  know,  Ardis, 
that  just  now,  when  I  went  to  that  house  to  put  down  the 
pitcher,  I  saw  a  pail  of  water  under  a  table !  If  I  had 
seen  that " 

"O  Norma!  Norma!"  said  Ardis,  her  words  coming 
from  her  with  an  earnestness  that  astonished  her  com- 
panion, "if  you  had  but  seen  it!  if  you  had  but  seen  it!  " 

The  other  guide,  with  the  two  young  Englishmen,  now 
came  running  from  the  entrance  to  the  caves;  and  when 
they  had  been  told  that  Mr.  Surrey  had  met  with  an  acci- 
dent and  was  on  his  way  to  the  tavern,  the  five  set  off 
down  the  mountain. 

That  evening,  after  supper,  Surrey  felt  strong  enough 
to  tell  the  story  of  his  mishap  in  the  cave,  and  great  con- 
sternation was  occasioned.  Such  a  thing  had  never  been 
heard  of!  That  a  miscreant  who  would  make  such  a 
felonious  attack  as  this  should  be  found  in  the  Ridgeby 
Caves,  or  indeed  in  any  part  of  the  surrounding  country, 
was  almost  incredible!  It  seemed  as  if  Mr.  Surrey  must 
have  been  attacked  by  a  demon  of  the  earth,  for  Purley 
was  confident  that  no  human  being  could  get  either  into 
or  out  of  the  caves  without  his  knowing  it.  The  door 
of  the  stairway  leading  down  into  the  caves  was  always 
kept  locked. 


132  AND  IS  CLAVERDEN. 

When  he  had  opened  it  that  morning  the  lock  was  in 
perfect  order,  and  when  the  party  started  on  their  tour  of 
the  caves  he  had  locked  it  behind  them.  But  if  an  in- 
truder was  in  there  that  person  must  be  in  there  yet,  for 
the  door  had  been  locked  that  afternoon  by  the  guide 
who  left  last. 

Purley  was  much  disturbed  at  this  occurrence,  not  only 
on  Mr.  Surrey's  account,  but  on  his  own ;  for  it  would  be 
very  detrimental  to  his  business  as  tavern-keeper  and 
guide  if  intending  visitors  to  the  Ridgeby  Caves  should 
have  reason  to  fear  that  they  might  be  attacked  either  by 
men  or  demons  while  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  He 
promised  that  early  the  next  day  he  would  collect  a  party 
of  armed  men  and  explore  every  part  of  the  caves,  and  if 
any  man  was  concealed  there,  he  would  be  found. 

The  conversation  during  the  evening  turned  entirely 
upon  the  assault;  but  no  one  was  able  to  offer  any 
reasonable  suggestion  in  regard  to  it.  It  might  have  been 
that  the  man  intended  to  rob  Mr.  Surrey,  but  was  pre- 
vented by  his  vigorous  resistance ;  but  as  no  person  likely 
to  make  such  an  attack  was  known  to  exist  on  the  surface 
of  the  county,  no  reason  could  be  adduced  why  he  should 
exist  beneath  its  surface. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  when  the  door  of  the  tavern 
parlor  opened,  and  a  young  man,  a  stranger  to  all  present, 
entered.  He  stopped  at  the  door,  bowed  to  the  company, 
and  gazed  about  him.  Every  one  stopped  talking  and 
looked  at  him ;  and  it  flashed  into  the  mind  of  Norma 
that  perhaps  this  was  the  miscreant  of  the  caves,  who  was 
about  to  select  another  victim.  But  this  notion  was  a  very 
transient  one,  for  it  was  impossible  to  look  upon  this  young 
man  as  one  addicted  to  violent  deeds.  He  was  of  medium 
height,  rather  slender;  he  wore  a  neatly-fitting  suit  of 
dark  gray;  his  collar  was  turned  down  very  low,  and  a 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  133 

black  silk  handkerchief  was  knotted  in  a  large  bow  at  his 
throat.  His  handsome  face  showed  no  sign  of  beard  or 
moustache.  His  large  eyes  moved  with  an  expression  of 
placid  inquiry  from  one  person  to  another,  and  his  long 
hair  was  brushed  behind  his  ears. 

He  stood  in  a  graceful  attitude  of  indecision  for  some 
moments,  when,  suddenly,  a  gleam  came  into  his  eyes  and 
he  changed  his  position  to  one  of  successful  accomplish- 
ment. "  Ah !  "  he  said — he  was  looking  at  Ardis  as  he 
spoke — "  I  have  made  no  mistake.  You  must  pardon  me, 
Miss  Claverden,  for  intruding  upon  you  and  your  com- 
pany, but  my  excuse  shall  be  quickly  forthcoming.  My 
name  is  Dalrymple,  Egbert  Dalrymple.  When  I  reached 
my  father's  house  a  day  or  two  ago,  I  was  informed  that 
my  family  had  been  invited  to  join  your  little  excursion 
to  the  Ridgeby  Caves.  Notwithstanding  that  they  had 
declined,  I  determined,  for  my  part,  that  I  would  not 
forego  the  very  great  pleasure  of  joining  your  party;  for 
I  had  no  doubt  that  I  should  have  been  included  in  the 
invitation  had  I  been  at  home !  " 

"  Most  certainly,  sir,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  am  sorry  you  are 
too  late,  for  we  have  returned  from  the  caves.  But  will 
you  not  walk  in  and  take  a  seat?  " 

"  Thanks,"  said  he.  And  laying  his  soft  hat  upon  a 
table,  he  gracefully  brought  forward  a  chair,  and  placed  it 
as  close  to  Ardis  as  the  positions  of  Norma  and  Dr.  Lester 
would  permit. 

Miss  Airpenney  fixed  upon  the  newcomer  a  steady  gaze, 
and  Surrey,  who  was  lying  on  a  sofa  in  the  back  part  of 
the  room,  never  took  his  eyes  from  him.  If  any  members 
of  the  party  thought  of  addressing  the  newcomer  he  gave 
them  no  opportunity,  but  went  on  speaking  with  an  air  of 
kindly  graciousness  which  was  intended  to  put  every  one 
at  ease. 


134  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  So !  "  he  said,  as  he  seated  himself,  "  I  am  aware  that 
I  am  too  late,  but  the  pleasure  of  accompanying  you  and 
your  party  on  your  return  will  amply  compensate  me  for 
the  difficulties  I  have  encountered.  Difficulties  indeed 
they  were!  I  was  obliged  to  come  in  a  buggy  with  a 
negro  driver,  for  I  am  not  acquainted  with  the  roads; 
and  rougher  roads  I  am  sure  were  never  known  in  Chris- 
tendom. In  one  place  the  little  river  had  chosen  to  flow 
along  the  highway,  and  had  left  its  bed  of  rounded 
boulders  for  the  use  of  passing  vehicles.  Dreadfully  jolt- 
ing, I  assure  you,  Miss  Claverden!  And  this  afternoon 
as  we  were  going  up  the  steep  road  a  man  came  galloping 
down  as  if  all  the  fiends  of  earth  and  air  were  after  him. 
If  it  had  not  been  for  his  horse's  eyes — for  I  am  sure  he 
did  not  use  his  own — he  must  have  collided  with  us.  Do 
people  hereabouts  generally  ride  in  that  fashion,  Miss 
Claverden?" 

"  Not  generally,"  said  Ardis.  And  she  fixed  her  eyes 
upon  the  fire  on  which  a  colored  boy  had  placed  an  arm- 
ful of  dried  sticks. 

The  spirit  of  hospitality  now  moved  Dr.  Lester  to 
speak.  "  Have  you  had  your  supper,  sir  ?  "  he  said. 

Mr.  Dalrymple  turned  his  eyes  toward  him  for  a  mo- 
ment. "  Not  yet,  thanks, "  he  said.  "  But  I  feel  in  no 
present  need  of  refreshment.  Later  I  will  speak  to  the 
people  of  the  inn." 

"  If  you  make  it  much  later,"  thought  Norma,  "  the 
kitchen  fire  will  be  out  and  the  servants  in  bed."  But 
she  said  nothing ;  and  the  young  man  went  on  with  his 
monologue,  describing  the  further  difficulties  of  the  road 
as  if  every  one  present  were  totally  ignorant  of  them. 

This  was  the  young  man  for  whose  sake  Mrs.  Dalrym- 
ple had  withdrawn  from  the  excursion  party,  not  wishing 
to  expose  her  only  son  to  the  blandishments  of  that  for- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


135 


ward  young  woman,  Miss  Ardis  Claverden.  But  the  young 
man,  having  heard  from  his  father  and  his  sister  of  the 
remarkable  personal  attractions  of  Miss  Claverden,  and 
disapproving  entirely  of  his  mother's  action,  and  probably 
suspecting  her  reason,  he  had  taken  matters  into  his  own 
hand,  and  had  set  off  by  himself.  Had  he  earlier  com- 
prehended the  state  of  affairs  he  would  have  reached  the 
caves  as  soon  as  the  others. 

The  arrival  of  this  young  man  was  a  positive  relief  to 
Ardis.  She  had  taken  but  little  part  in  the  general  con- 
versation, her  mind  being  so  much  occupied  with  what 
had  happened  to  her  that  she  could  not  bring  her  thoughts 
to  bear  upon  what  had  happened  to  Mr.  Surrey.  With 
Egbert  Dalrymple  addressing  the  company,  her  abstracted 
manner  was  not  noticeable,  for  the  attention  of  every  one 
was  given  to  the  newcomer. 

A  negro  boy  now  came  in  with  a  tray  on  which  was 
some  supper  for  the  gentleman  who  had  come  late.  When 
the  tray  was  presented  to  him,  Mr.  Dalrymple  turned 
severely  on  the  boy. 

"Take  it  away!1'  he  said.  "When  I  need  anything  I 
will  call  for  it."  And  then,  as  if  in  apology,  he  added, 
looking  toward  Ardis :  "  Rural  simplicity  frequently  de- 
serves to  be  termed  clownish  stupidity!  " 

Miss  Airpenny  had  now  sat  quiet  as  long  as  it  was  pos- 
sible for  her;  and,  suddenly  rising  to  her  feet,  she  said: 
"  You  would  better  eat  your  food  when  you  can  get  it, 
young  man,  and  if  it  is  the  presence  of  the  ladies  that 
hinders  you,  you  needn't  stop  for  that,  for  we  are  going  to 
bed." 

"So?"  cried  Mr.  Dalrymple,  springing  to  his  feet. 
"  The  evening  has  scarce  begun." 

"  It  is  ended  for  us,"  said  Miss  Airpenny.  And  Ardis 
and  Norma  being  very  willing  to  go,  the  three  ladies  bade 


136  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

the  company  "  Good  night ;  "  Miss  Airpenny  stopping  by 
Surrey's  couch  to  inquire  into  her  patient's  condition,  and 
to  impress  upon  him  that  if  his  wound  needed  attention 
in  the  night  not  to  hesitate  to  call  upon  her. 

Mr.  Dalrymple  stood  moodily  for  a  few  moments  with- 
out regarding  the  other  gentlemen  who  were  talking  to- 
gether, and  then  with  an  air  of  brusque  indifference  ate 
the  supper  which  had  been  left  on  a  table.  When  he  had 
finished  he  found  that  the  gentlemen  had  lighted  their 
pipes,  and  even  the  recumbent  Surrey  was  puffing  a 
cigarette. 

"Will  you  smoke,  sir?"  asked  Dr.  Lester.  "I  have 
another  pipe." 

Egbert  Darlymple  walked  to  the  end  of  the  mantel- 
piece, and  leaning  against  it,  folded  his  arms  and  regarded 
the  speaker.  "  Smoke !  "  said  he,  "  what  for?  " 

The  idea  of  any  person  asking  a  question  like  this  struck 
Prouter  and  Cruppledean  as  being  so  ludicrous  that  they 
burst  out  laughing ;  and  even  the  polite  Dr.  Lester  could 
not  restrain  a  smile.  The  countenance  of  Surrey,  how- 
ever, did  not  move.  He  still  regarded  this  young  man 
with  severe  attention. 

With  an  idea  of  compassionate  scorn  Mr.  Dalrymple 
looked  at  the  ceiling ;  then,  his  arms  still  folded  and  his 
eyes  cast  on  the  floor,  he  walked  with  deliberate  steps 
from  the  room. 

Tom  Prouter  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair,  slapped 
his  knees,  and  danced  his  feet.  "O  the  ass!  the  ass!  " 
he  cried,  "  the  head  ass  of  the  world !  "  And  he  and 
Cruppledean  laughed  so  much  that  their  pipes  went  out. 

Surrey  did  not  laugh.  He  had  noticed  how  this  remark- 
ably handsome  young  man  had  kept  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
Ardis  and  had  addressed  no  one  but  her. 

Egbert  Dalrymplp  walked  out  on  the  little  porch  of  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  137 

inn  and  seated  himself  on  the  railing,  one  leg  thrown 
carelessly  up  before  him  and  his  back  gracefully  inclined 
against  a  post.  Raising  his  eyes  toward  the  moon  which 
now  had  risen  high  among  the  floating,  white  clouds,  he 
soliloquized : 

"Enrapturing!"  he  said  in  a  gentle  whisper.  "Far 
more  enrapturing  than  I  could  have  dreamed!  What 
Cecilia  told  me  was  not  half!  Hear  me,  pretty  moon!  I 
give  myself  to  her!  As  you  fill  with  tender  light  the 
downy  edges  of  those  white  clouds,  so  shall  she  illumine 
my  every  thought,  my  every  emotion,  my  every  impulse. 
As  the  waters  follow  you,  so  follow  I  her.  I  raise  myself 
up  toward  her.  I  reach  out  to  her.  What  happens  I 
care  not.  The  fair  world  may  be  flooded ;  men  may  die ; 
women  may  weep ;  still  reach  I  up  to  her.  What  matters 
it  if  I  leave  bare  shores  that  would  have  smiled  to  me ;  if 
fame,  if  fortune,  if  high  aims,  are  all  forgotten,  left  dry 
and  arid,  while  I  lift  myself  to  her?  And  if  I  lift  myself 
in  fervid  ardor  the  night  will  pass,  the  dawn  will  come, 
and  she  will  slowly  sink,  sink,  sink  toward f' 

At  this  moment  he  heard  a  little  shuffle  as  of  feet  be- 
side him,  and  turning  quickly  his  moon-irradiated  face,  he 
saw  a  small  colored  boy  with  sleepy  upturned  visage. 

"  Mister,"  said  the  boy,  "  they's  all  done  gone  to  bed 
but  you,  an'  he  says  when  you  comes  in  you  mus'  put  out 
dat  ker'sene  lamp  on  de  table." 

Egbert  Dalrymple  let  himself  down  on  the  floor  of  the 
porch  with  a  sudden  shock.  "  Damn  the  kerosene  lamp!  " 
he  said,  as  he  marched  into  the  house. 

Before  sunrise  the  next  day  Purley,  with  several  armed 
companions,  began  the  work  of  thoroughly  scouring  the 
caves.  It  was  many  hours  before  they  came  out,  but 
when  he  again  breathed  the  outer  air  Purley  had  made  up 
his  mind.  He  believed  that  Mr.  Surrey  had  had  a  fight 


138  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

with  a  gigantic  stalactite;  he  had  run  against  the  thing) 
and  supposed  it  had  struck  him,  had  turned  upon  it,  had 
dropped  his  candle,  and  seizing  it  with  desperate  fury  had 
broken  it  off,  and  the  stone  and  the  man  had  rolled  to- 
gether on  the  floor.  That  Mr.  Surrey  had  described  his 
assailant  as  cold  and  slippery  was  a  strong  proof  in  favor 
of  this  supposition.  And  in  accounting  for  the  mental 
condition  which  would  allow  a  man  to  fight  a  stalactite 
Purley  found  no  difficulty ;  any  person  of  mature  age  who 
would  deliberately  leave  his  party  in  those  caves  and  go 
wandering  about  by  himself  at  the  risk  of  dropping  down 
into  some  bottomless  pit,  was  crack-brained  enough  to 
imagine  anything !  If  this  affair  should  come  to  be  gen- 
erally known  Purley  determined  that  his  version  of  the 
matter  should  also  be  known,  and  he  did  not  doubt  that 
reasonable  people  would  consider  his  version  the  true  one. 

That  morning,  without  waiting  for  Purley's  report,  the 
Bald  Hill  party  returned  home.  Mr.  Surrey  felt  much 
stronger,  and  he  and  Norma  had  the  carriage  all  to  them- 
selves, Miss  Airpenny  riding  by  its  side  whenever  the 
width  of  the  road  allowed.  It  was  not  a  very  jolly  party, 
but  there  was  one  happy  heart  in  it.  That  was  the  heart 
of  Dr.  Lester,  for  during  the  whole  journey  Ardis  rode  by 
his  side. 

Egbert  Dalrymple  would  have  kept  close  to  Miss  Claver- 
den,  had  it  been  possible  to  do  so  in  a  buggy  with  a  negro 
man  driving.  As  it  was,  he  was  obliged  to  keep  in  the 
rear  of  the  little  procession — and  a  good  deal  in  the  rear, 
too,  when  the  road  was  dusty.  But  ever  he  kept  his  eyes 
upon  that  fair  one,  whom  like  the  tide,  he  followed.  Prouter 
and  Cruppledean  had  ridden  on  an  hour  or  two  before, 
the  former  being  anxious  to  know  how  his  milk  route  had 
prospered  in  his  absence.  Thus  young  Dalrymple  had 
been  prevented  from  making  an  intended  proposition  to 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  139 

one  of  them  to  change  places  with  him,  so  that  with  a 
steed  beneath  him  he  might  ride  by  the  side  of  Ardis. 

Toward  noon  the  party  stopped  near  a  spring  which 
ran  from  the  rocks  not  far  from  the  roadside,  and  Dr. 
Lester  having  dismounted  and  gone  to  fill  a  drinking  cup 
with  water,  Egbert  Dalrymple  sprang  to  the  ground  and 
made  his  way  with  sprightly  step  to  Ardis. 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Miss  Claverden,"  he  said,  "  that 
your  uncle  would  be  glad  to  lend  me  his  horse  for  an  hour 
or  two  and  take  my  seat  in  the  buggy?  I  doubt  not  it 
would  rest  him." 

"  My  uncle !  "  exclaimed  Ardis.  "  Oh,  you  mean  Dr. 
Lester!  "  And  then,  although  she  was  not  in  a  laughing 
mood,  she  laughed  so  heartily  that  Surrey,  with  whom 
Miss  Airpenny  was  talking,  looked  out  of  the  carriage 
window.  "  The  doctor  is  not  my  uncle,'7  she  said,  "  and  I 
am  quite  sure  he  will  not  care  to  make  the  change.  He 
dislikes  being  driven  in  a  buggy,  and  never  tires  in  the 
saddle." 

The  doctor  now  came  up  with  the  water,  and  Dalrymple, 
first  casting  his  eyes  up  toward  the  sky  and  then  fixing 
them  on  the  ground  before  him,  strode  with  measured 
pace  back  to  his  vehicle. 


140  ARDIS   CLAVERDEtf. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

ON  the  morning  after  his  return  from  the  Ridgeby  Caves, 
Dr.  Lester  sat  by  the  bedside  of  an  invalid.  He  was 
not  there  in  the  capacity  of  a  physician,  but  as  a  nurse,  a 
counselor,  a  companion,  a  messenger,  or  in  any  capacity 
of  general  utility. 

"  I  believe  you,  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  "  in  what  you 
say  about  the  value  of  a  wife's  hand  when  employed  in 
rubbing  in  an  embrocation.  And  does  that  shoulder  feel 
any  better  now?  " 

"Indeed  it  does,"  said  Bonetti,  "and  if  it  didn't  I 
couldn't  talk.  At  first  it  pained  me  so  that  I  could 
scarcely  whisper,  and  that's  what  I  call  a  pretty  bad  hurt." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  doctor.  "  And  you  seem  to 
have  been  extensively  damaged  otherwise." 

"  I  should  say  so !  "  replied  the  other.  "  Head  nearly 
broken,  bruises  all  over  me,  and  I  didn't  count  the  cuts 
and  scratches.  How  I  got  myself  out  of  the  caves  I  really 
can't  see!" 

"  What  I  cannot  see,"  said  the  doctor,  "  is  how  you  got 
into  the  caves,  or  out  of  them,  or  why  you  undertook  such 
a  mad  piece  of  business." 

"  The  first  part,"  said  Bonetti,  a  little  quiet  light  of  sat- 
isfaction coming  into  his  eyes,  "  was  easy  enough.  There 
is  a  way  into  the  Ridgeby  Caves  that  I  know,  and  nobody 
else  does.  It  takes  a  pretty  spry  man  to  get  in  or  out  of 
it,  and  if  ever  I  show  it  to  anybody  I'll  show  it  to  you, 
Dr.  Lester." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  it,"  said  ths  doctor,  earnestly.  "  I 
positively  decline  to  know  anything  about  it." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  I4! 

"All  right,"  said  the  other.  "I  went  in  that  way,  and 
I  came  out  that  way.  I  went  in  because  I  hoped  I'd  get 
a  chance  to  give  that  man  a  good  thrashing,  because  he 
insulted  me  straight  up  and  down,  the  worst  way;  and 
that's  the  sort  of  thing  I  don't  take  from  any  man ! " 

"  But  Bonnet/'  said  the  doctor,  "  it  is  quite  plain  that 
you  did  take  the  insult,  and  a  good  beating  besides.  But 
no  matter  what  your  reasons  were,  your  conduct  is  totally 
inexcusable." 

"  I  don't  look  on  it  in  that  light,"  said  Bonnetti.  "  I 
wanted  to  give  him  a  quick  thrash,  and  I  didn't  want  to 
injure  my  reputation  either.  I  have  got  a  wife  and 
daughters,  and  I  owe  something  to  them.  People  think 
of  me  as  a  peaceable  man,  and  I  want  'em  to  keep  on 
thinkin'  so.  When  I  heard  he  was  goin'  into  the  caves  I 
thought  that  was  my  chance  and  I  took  it.  I  had  matches 
and  candles  in  my  pocket,  and  I  wore  a  rubber  overcoat 
and  boots.  I  can  wait  in  the  dark  and  the  wet  as  long 
as  any  man,  and  I  know  the  caves  as  well  as  Purley  does.  I 
didn't  do  much  at  follerin'  'em  till  they  were  comin'  back 
because  it's  when  people  are  comin'  back  that  they  straggle. 
I  had  a  notion  that  man  would  try  to  go  prowlin'  round  by 
himself,  but  I  didn't  think  he'd  give  me  such  a  good  chance 
as  he  did.  I  couldn't  have  asked  for  anything  better !  " 

"  Except  that  the  man  you  attacked  should  not  have 
been  so  stout,"  said  the  doctor.  "  It  was  a  low-down 
trick  to  do  that  thing  in  the  dark,  Bonnet." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti.  "  You 
are  always  forgettin'  my  wife  and  daughters.  But  he  was 
a  tough  fellow,  most  certain,  and  gave  it  to  me  hot  and 
heavy.  But  I  gave  him  as  good  as  I  got  and  my  mind 
feels  easier,  though  my  body  don't." 

"  It  has  been  all  wrong,  Bonnet,  in  every  possible  way," 
said  the  doctor.  "  I  won't  say  any  more  about  jumping 


142  AKDIS  CLA  VERDE N. 

on  a  man  in  the  dark,  but  you  have  done  wrong  to  me 
by  telling  me  all  this.  Here  I  am  to  meet  a  gentleman 
who  has  been  most  mysteriously  assaulted;  I  hear  Major 
Claverden  raging  about  the  unparalleled  injury  done  to 
a  man  who  is  a  guest  beneath  his  roof;  and  for  days  I 
shall  listen  to  all  sorts  of  plans  for  discovering  and  cap- 
turing the  person  who  did  this  deed ;  and  I  must  hold  my 
tongue  or  send  you  to  jail,  Bonnet." 

"  I  don't  see  that  I've  done  you  any  wrong,  doctor," 
said  Bonetti.  "  It  just  happened  that  you  came,  you 
know.  You  were  passin'  by  here  and  you  stopped  in. 
You've  often  done  that  before,  and  it's  not  my  fault  that 
you  did  it  now.  You  heard  I  was  sick  in  bed  and  you 
came  up  to  see  me.  Was  that  my  fault?  And  when  you 
got  here  you  asked  me  what  was  the  matter,  and  do  you 
suppose  I  was  goin'  to  tell  you  a  lie?  You  wouldn't  like 
me  to  lie  to  you,  would  you,  doctor?  " 

"  No,"  replied  the  other,  "  I  should  not  like  it." 

"Well  then,"  said  Bonetti,  "the  whole  thing  just  hap- 
pened and  it's  nobody's  fault." 

The  doctor  made  no  reply,  but  his  face  showed  that  he 
deeply  felt  the  unpleasant  position  in  which  he  had  been 
placed  by  his  brother  philosophizer. 

"  There  is  one  thing,"  resumed  Bonetti,  "  which  is  bad. 
There's  no  gettin'  around  it;  it's  very  bad!  I  suppose 
that  man  would  have  been  goin'  away  in  a  day  or  two, 
judgin'  by  the  time  such  people  generally  stay  at  gentle- 
men's houses.  But  now  there's  no  knowin'  when  he'll  go. 
Major  Claverden  won't  let  him  go  until  he  is  clean  well. 
And,  what's  more,  he'll  not  want  to  be  well  as  long  as  he 
has  got  Miss  Ardis  to  take  care  of  him.  And  she'll  take 
care  of  him  because  she's  a  woman.  I  know  women. 
When  anybody  is  sick  they  haven't  got  no  back  bone  at 
all.  They  just  go  in  and  do  everything  they  know  how." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  143 

"Well?"  said  the  doctor,  now  listening  with  great  in- 
terest. 

"  It  is  all  as  plain  as  daylight,"  said  Bonetti.  "  He'll 
make  the  most  of  his  time,  and,  as  like  as  not  hell  get  her." 

"  I  don't  believe  it!  "  said  the  doctor  warmly. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Bonetti,  "  if  there  was  any  one  else 
around  it  would  be  different,  but  he  will  have  her  all  to 
himself.  If  Roger  Dunworth  was  at  home  I'd  feel  easier 
about  it.  He  wouldn't  stand  by  and  let  Surrey  walk  over 
the  course.  Dunworth  is  the  man  that  wants  her,  and 
ought  to  have  her.  Don't  you  say  so,  doctor?  " 

Dr.  Lester  pushed  back  his  chair  a  little  and  looked 
out  of  the  window.  "  Yes,"  he  said. 

"  But  he  isn't  here,"  continued  Bonetti.  "  My  wife  tells 
me  that  he  passed  by  here  yesterday  mornin'  in  his  buggy 
goin'  to  town  with  his  yaller  boy,  Jim.  And  when  Jim 
came  back  without  him  she  stopped  him,  and  he  told  her 
Mister  Roger  had  gone  off  on  the  train,  he  didn't  know 
where.  So  you  see,  doctor,  it's  a  pretty  bad  case." 

"  I  cannot  believe  in  the  danger  you  speak  of,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  but  I  shall  be  truly  sorry  if  Surrey  is  obliged  to 
remain  at  Bald  Hill." 

"Indeed  you  will  be  sorry!"  said  Bonetti,  "and  there 
is  only  one  thing  to  be  done,  and  that  is  for  you  to  go  in." 

"I  go  in!"  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "What  do  you 
mean?" 

"  I  mean,"  said  Bonetti,  "  for  you  to  pitch  right  in  and 
cut  Surrey  out,  just  as  Dunworth  would  do  if  he  was  here. 
I  know  it  seems  a  little  off- color,  but  it  can't  be  helped. 
Any  port  in  a  storm.  If  you  would  forget  all  them  reso- 
lutions of  yours  and  go  in  strong,  it  wouldn't  do  her  any 
hurt  and  it  might  drive  that  man  off,  or  hinder  him,  any 
way." 

"O  Bonnet!  Bonnet!"   exclaimed  Dr.  Lester,   "what 


144 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


are  you  talking  about?  It  would  never  do  for  me  to  un- 
dertake that  sort  of  thing.  How  could  I  stop  myself  if  I 
made  a  start  like  that?  " 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  stop  yourself,"  said  Bonetti. 
"  There  is  a  chance  that  Surrey  may  get  her ;  and  that  is 
all  you  or  I  should  think  of.  You  may  not  have  to  stick 
it  out  very  long,  and  when  Surrey  clears  out,  if  you  find 
you've  got  in  a  little  too  deep,  you  can  clear  out  too.  You 
might  travel  for  awhile.  There's  lots  of  things  you  might 
do." 

"  Bonnet,"  cried  the  doctor,  rising  to  his  feet,  "  is  your 
blood  as  cold  and  earthy  as  the  drops  that  turn  into  stone 
in  Ridgeby  Caves?  Can  you  lie  there  and  calmly  talk  to 
me  about  doing  a  thing  like  that?'  The  very  thought  of 
it  is  enough  to  drive  a  man  mad!  " 

"  There's  no  use  in  gettin'  excited,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti. 
"  There's  sacrifices  to  be  made  in  this  world,  and  the  best 
thing  we  can  do  is  to  step  out  prompt  and  make  'em." 

"  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  taking  up  his  hat  and  turn- 
ing toward  the  door,  "  never  propose  such  a  plan  as  this 
to  me  again!" 

"  Doctor,"  said  Bonetti,  "  please  wait  one  moment. 
Suppose  you  had  a  bad  pain  in  your  leg  from  a  bruise, 
and  there  was  a  bowl  on  the  table  with  whiskey  and  salt 
in  it,  and  close  by  it  there  was  a  bottle  of  arnica,  if  you 
was  goin'  to  do  your  own  rubbin'  which  would  you  choose  ?  " 

"Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  a  little  severely,  "you  know 
I  never  prescribe ;  you  must  do  your  own  choosing.  Good 
day." 

"  Well,"  said  Bonetti  to  himself  as  he  uneasily  turned 
on  his  other  side,  "  I  am  safe  with  him,  for  he'll  never  go 
back  on  a  friend." 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  145 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

IF  Dr.  Lester  had  followed  Bonetti's  advice  he  would 
have  greatly  gratified  Ardis,  and  she  would  not  have 
suspected  the  feelings  that  lay  beneath  his  attentions. 
The  true  character  of  the  doctor's  sentiments  would  never 
have  occurred  to  Ardis,  and  she  would  have  been  most 
grateful  to  this  old  friend  if  his  presence  had  in  any  way 
acted  as  a  barrier  between  her  and  Surrey. 

It  appeared  as  if  Surrey  was  likely  to  remain  at  Bald 
Hill  for  some  time,  and  since  he  had  taken  that  unfair 
and  unmanly  advantage  of  her  kindly  solicitude,  she  had 
spoken  to  him  only  in  the  most  casual  way.  And  she  was 
fully  determined  that  he  should  have  no  opportunity  to 
repeat  his  offence  nor  even  to  allude  to  it. 

Norma  had  declared  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary  for 
her  to  return  to  Heatherley.  To  remain  at  Bald  Hill  with 
Norma  away  and  Surrey  there  was  not  to  be  thought  of, 
and  Ardis  decided  to  go  home  with  her  friend. 

When  this  decision  was  communicated  to  her  father  on 
the  evening  of  the  day  after  the  return  from  the  caves,  the 
mind  of  Major  Claverden  was  troubled.  The  project  did 
not  at  all  accord  with  his  ideas  of  hospitality.  For  the 
lady  of  the  house  to  thus  absent  herself  during  the  visit 
of  an  invited  guest  was  an  impropriety  at  any  time ;  and 
particularly  so  in  the  present  case.  But  Ardis  was  stead- 
fast. It  grieved  her  to  run  counter  to  her  father's  deep- 
set  ideas  of  courtesy  and  hospitality;  and  had  Norma  or 
Dr.  Lester  been  there  to  intervene  between  her  and  Mr. 
Surrey  che  would  have  remained  at  home  for  the  major's 
10 


146  AXDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

sake.  She  would  not  tell  her  father  what  had  happened, 
for  she  knew  it  would  cause  in  him  a  dire  conflict  between 
anger  and  his  notions  of  hospitality  toward  an  injured  man. 
Major  Claverden,  as  was  his  habit,  soon  ce-ased  his  oppo- 
sition to  his  daughter's  desire. 

"  Every  attention  that  your  patient  needs,"  she  said, 
"  can  be  given  to  him  better  under  your  direction  than 
under  mine,  and  I  think  it  likely  that  I  shall  return  very 
soon." 

In  saying  this  Ardis  spoke  the  truth,  for  she  believed 
that  as  Surrey  must  understand  why  she  had  gone  away  he 
would  soon  depart.  It  would  not  take  long  for  a  healthy 
man,  such  as  he  was,  to  regain  his  ordinary  strength. 

There  was  another  motive  which  prompted  Ardis  to  go 
away.  There  was  within  her  a  desire,  one  which  she  did 
not  acknowledge  to  herself  but  which  existed  in  consider- 
able force,  to  make  Roger  Dunworth  aware  that  the  im- 
pression he  had  received  regarding  herself  and  Surrey  was 
an  erroneous  one.  To  do  this  the  first  step  necessary  was 
to  separate  herself  from  Surrey. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast,  when  Major  Claverden 
informed  his  guest  that  his  daughter  and  Miss  Cranton 
had  gone  to  the  home  of  the  latter  an  hour  before,  his 
courteous  disposition  prompted  him  to  make  sundry  ex- 
cuses for  this  abrupt  departure.  To  these,  however,  his 
guest  paid  little  attention.  He  said  nothing  except  a  few 
words  of  regret  at  the  absence  of  the  ladies,  but  he 
thought  a  good  deal.  It  was  quite  plain  to  him  why  Ardis 
had  gone  away,  and  his  thoughts  principally  regarded  his 
own  action:  what  ought  he  to  do  now? 

After  breakfast,  when  he  had  an  hour  or  two  to  himself, 
he  gave  this  subject  a  great  deal  of  consideration.  He 
decided  upon  but  one  thing,  and  that  was  to  stay  at  Bald 
Hill  as  long  as  he  could.  Major  Claverden  had  asserted 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEX.  147 

that  he  would  not  allow  him  to  leave  his  house  until  he 
had  recovered  from  the  effect  of  his  wound.  The  period 
of  entire  recovery  could  of  course  be  postponed  or  hastened 
according  to  circumstances ;  and  Surrey  would  wait  and 
see  if  Fate  would  yet  give  him  an  opportunity  to  set  him- 
self right  with  Ardis.  If  he  should  have  this  opportunity, 
he  did  not  at  all  despair  of  success.  He  knew  well  that 
he  had  angered  her,  but  before  this  he  had  made  his 
peace  with  angered  women,  and  he  considered  himself 
peculiarly  proficient  in  this  sort  of  pacification.  Indeed 
he  believed  that  he  showed  to  better  advantage  in  the  eyes 
of  a  woman  conciliated  than  in  those  of  one  with  whom 
that  process  had  not  been  necessary.  He  had  made  a 
mistake  with  Ardis,  but  that  mistake  could  easily  be  ex- 
plained. When  a  man's  love  is  so  powerful  as  to  run 
away  with  him,  that  fact  ought  to  be  used  with  much  effect 
in  an  amorous  argument. 

At  all  events  Surrey  was  firm  in  his  determination  that 
he  would  not  leave  this  neighborhood  until  there  was  no 
further  hope  of  an  interview  with  Ardis.  It  might  be  that 
she  would  be  obliged  to  return  in  a  few  days,  and  if  he 
saw  that  it  was  useless  to  expect  her  return  while  he  was 
at  Bald  Hill,  it  would  be  quite  within  the  bounds  of  polite- 
ness for  him  to  ride  over  to  Heatherley  and  take  leave  of 
Ardis  and  Miss  Cranton.  Should  he  do  this  he  doubted 
not  that  he  would  get  or  make  an  opportunity  to  speak 
with  Ardis.  He  did  not  flatter  himself  that  his  task  would 
be  an  easy  one;  he  knew  it  would  be  hard.  He  had  seen 
Dunworth  sitting  stone-like  on  his  horse,  and  he  had  looked 
upon  the  pale  face  of  Ardis  as  she  had  sprung  to  her  feet, 
and  he  knew  that  he  had  a  rival.  He  also  perceived  that 
he  was  going  to  have  another  rival  in  the  person  of  the 
young  man  who  had  joined  them  at  Purley's  tavern.  But 
these  facts  did  not  affect  his  courage  or  his  purpose.  He 


148  ARD2S   CLAVERDEN. 

was  a  brave  man,  and  believing  himself,  in  matters  of  love, 
as  deserving  as  any  other  man,  had  never  hesitated,  when 
occasion  required,  to  make  strong  effort  to  prove  this  con- 
viction correct. 

Now  that  his  daughter  had  gone,  Major  Claverden  ex- 
erted himself  in  every  way  to  promote  the  comfort  and 
pleasure  of  his  guest.  Not  only  had  he  a  deep  sympathy 
for  Mr.  Surrey's  misfortune,  but  he  greatly  desired  that  he 
should  not  consider  himself  deserted  or  de  trop.  More 
than  this  the  major  really  liked  Surrey,  and  was  glad  to 
have  him  for  a  companion.  He  did  not  for  a  moment 
look  upon  him  in  the  light  of  a  suitor  for  his  daughter's 
hand ;  and  if  he  had  so  looked  he  would  not  have  consid- 
ered him  as  one  she  would  allow  to  urge  his  suit.  Sur- 
rey was  a  congenial  companion  at  table,  a  good  story- 
teller, well  informed  on  many  points,  and,  above  all,  he 
was  one  of  the  very  few  persons  who  took  an  intelligent 
interest  in  the  wine  of  Bald  Hill.  Surrey  devoted  himself 
earnestly  to  a  study  of  the  culture  of  the  vine  and  the 
properties  of  the  grape,  and  particularly  to  those  especial 
vines  and  grapes  on  which  Major  Claverden  founded  his 
hopes.  Sometimes  he  could  not  help  laughing  a  little  to 
himself  that  he  should  be  engaged  in  researches  so  utterly 
foreign  to  the  ordinary  occupations  of  his  mind ;  but  when 
he  had  an  object  before  him  he  was  accustomed  to  work 
with  energy  to  accomplish  it.  He  knew  it  would  be 
greatly  to  his  advantage  to  win  the  favor  of  the  major,  but, 
more  than  this,  he  had  a  genuine  desire  to  become  pro- 
ficient in  pursuits  which,  if  the  matrimonial  project  suc- 
ceeded, might  become  his  own.  He  believed  it  would  suit 
him  very  well  to  become  a  country  gentleman,  at  least  for 
a  part  of  the  year,  and  if  the  estate  of  Bald  Hill  should 
ever  come  under  his  management  he  wished  to  know  how 
to  manage  it  to  advantage.  That  his  chances  of  succeed- 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


149 


ing  to  such  management  appeared  to  him  slighter  than 
they  had  a  few  days  before  had  no  effect  upon  his  pur- 
pose. If  he  had  any  chance  whatever  of  success,  he  would 
do  what  he  could  to  prepare  himself  to  take  full  advantage 
of  that  success — should  it  come. 

Surrey  had  given  much  consideration  to  the  major's 
experiments,  and  considering  the  experience  of  the  ex- 
perimenter, the  favorable  conditions  and  the  good  pro- 
gress that  had  apparently  been  made,  he  could  see  no 
good  reason  why  the  wine  of  Bald  Hill  should  not  become 
the  Johannisberger  of  America,  and  yield  a  fortune  to  the 
men  who  controlled  the  vineyards.  So,  at  all  hours  Jack 
Surrey  talked  "grape"  with  his  host,  making  suggestions 
which  were  not  without  value,  and  listening  attentively  to 
theories  and  details  of  practice,  thus  making  himself  such 
an  agreeable  companion  to  Major  Claverden,  that  the 
latter  frequently  declared  that  it  was  eminently  proper 
that  he  should  remain  at  Bald  Hill  and  write  the  article 
for  which  the  notes  and  sketches  had  there  been  made. 

On  the  day  of  her  arrival  at  Heatherley,  Ardis  wrote  a 
note  to  Roger  Dunworth.  She  greatly  disliked  to  do  this, 
but  anything  was  better  than  to  allow  him  to  remain  under 
the  mistaken  impression  which  she  knew  had  been  made 
upon  him.  After  what  she  had  said  to  him  concerning 
her  intentions  to  allow  no  man  to  make  love  to  her,  she 
could  not  endure  the  thought  that  he  should  have  cause 
to  believe  that  she  was  not  only  permitting  attentions  from 
Mr.  Surrey,  but  reciprocating  them.  Her  regard  for  her 
own  integrity,  and  her  desire  for  its  full  recognition,  would 
not  allow  her  to  rest  until  she  had  written  to  Dunworth  to 
ask  him  to  come  to  see  her  at  Heatherley  on  a  subject  of 
importance.  When  he  came  she  would  quickly  make  him 
understand  the  true  state  of  the  case ;  and  then  all  she 
had  previously  said  to  him  would  have  the  same  force  and 
purport  that  it  had  had  when  she  had  said  it. 


150  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

But  her  messenger  returned  with  the  news  that  Mr. 
Dunworth  had  left  his  house  two  days  before,  and  that 
his  destination  was  not  known.  It  was  supposed,  however, 
that  he  would  soon  return.  With  much  disappointment, 
therefore,  Ardis  put  her  note  in  her  portfolio  to  be  sent 
again  as  soon  as  she  should  hear  that  Mr.  Dunworth  had 
come  back. 

But  a  week  passed  and  he  did  not  come  back ;  and 
great  was  the  talk  of  the  neighborhood  concerning  this 
fact.  He  had  made  known  his  intentions  to  no  one ;  he 
had  left  no  directions  behind  him;  he  had  not  written; 
and  the  boy  who  had  driven  him  to  Bolton  did  not  know 
whether  he  had  taken  a  Northern  bound  train  or  one 
going  South.  The  ticket  agent  at  the  station  recollected 
having  sold  him  a  ticket,  but  there  was  a  train  up  and  one 
down  at  nearly  the  same  hour,  and  he  could  not  remember 
for  which  one  Mr.  Dunworth  had  taken  his  ticket. 

Messrs.  Parchester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean  were  now 
left  in  charge  of  affairs  at  the  Dunworth  farm,  and  they 
managed  them  to  the  best  of  their  ability,  but  there  were 
things  that  they  did  not  understand,  and  in  cases  of  doubt 
or  ignorance  they  naturally  consulted  with  their  com- 
patriots, the  Quantrills.  Miss  Airpenny,  who  seemed  to 
have  given  up  all  thoughts  of  present  travel,  was  much 
concerned  at  the  condition  of  the  Dunworth  household. 
She  had  bought  her  riding  horse  of  Roger  Dunworth,  and, 
strange  to  say,  this  transaction  had  caused  her  to  like  him. 
She  listened  with  much  attention  to  what  the  three  agri- 
cultural pupils  had  to  say,  and  then  she  spoke : 

"What  that  place  wants,"  she  said,  "is  a  head;  and  as 
I  have  one  which  is  out  of  employment  at  present,  I  shall 
take  it  there.  Whether  the  man  comes  back  to-morrow, 
or  stays  away  a  fortnight  longer,  it  is  a  Christian  duty  to 
see  that  he  does  not  suffer  for  it.  That  he  should  go 


ARD1S   CL  AVER  DEN.  151 

away  when  he  feels  like  it  and  stay  away  as  long  as  he 
chooses  shows  that  some  of  the  English  blood  of  his  an- 
cestors is  left  in  him,  and  I  shall  stand  by  English  blood 
wherever  I  find  it!  " 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Mr.  Quantrill. 
"  Are  you  going  to  teach  those  boys  American  farming?  " 

"  I  don't  propose  to  teach  them  anything,"  said  Miss 
Airpenny,  "  but  I  shall  see  to  it  that  they  shall  do  what 
they  have  been  taught.  And  I  shall  teach  somebody— I 
don't  know  who  yet — how  to  keep  a  house  in  order  so 
that  it  shall  be  fit  for  the  master  to  come  back  to,  or  be 
brought  back  to,  if  so  be  it  that  is  the  case.  Now  will  you 
be  good  enough  to  have  my  horse  saddled?  " 

Parchester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean  were  not  entirely 
pleased  with  Miss  Airpenny's  assumption  of  the  vacant 
throne,  but  they  knew  that  when  she  had  made  up  her 
mind  to  do  what  she  deemed  a  good  action,  and  which 
at  the  same  time  accorded  with  her  inclinations,  it  would 
be  a  waste  of  energy  to  endeavor  to  oppose  her.  And, 
therefore,  the  four  rode  back  together  to  the  Dunworth 
farm. 

Roger  Dunworth  had  a  widowed  sister  who  lived  in 
Kentucky,  and  as  it  was  known  that  he  frequently  assisted 
her  in  the  management  of  her  affairs,  it  was  supposed  by 
many  persons  that  he  had  suddenly  been  called  away  on 
her  account.  But  as  is  usual  in  such  cases,  most  people 
talked  and  surmised  while  one  person  acted.  That  person 
was  Miss  Airpenny. 

"  If  I  understood  housekeeping  in  the  American  fash- 
ion," she  said  to  the  Dunworth  house  servants,  "I  should 
have  you  do  your  work  in  that  way,  and  should  see  that 
you  did  it  properly.  But  I  don't  understand  it.  and  there- 
fore shall  do  my  housekeeping  in  the  way  I  do  understand. 
I  want  you  to  know  that  we  must  now  have  tea  and  but- 


'5* 


ARDIS   CLA  VEKDRX. 


tered  toast  for  breakfast,  and  no  kind  of  hot  bread  nor 
coffee.  And  you  are  not  all  to  go  to  bed  at  nine  o'clock, 
for  about  that  time  we  shall  have  supper." 

Aunt  Lucy  in  the  kitchen  lifted  up  her  hands  and  eyes 
in  solemn  sadness  when  Miss  Airpenny  had  gone  from 
her.  "  I's  allus  prayed  to  live  long,"  she  said,  "  an',  so 
far,  my  pra'rs  has  been  answered.  But  I  never  reckined 
to  live  long  'nuf  to  git  breakfus'  without  hot  bread.  If 
Mr.  Roger  don'  come  back  soon  I  reckin  it's  about  time 
to  stop  de  pra'rs  an'  git  ready  fer  de  udder  shohr." 

But  as  Mr.  Roger  might  come  home  any  day  the  prayers 
were  not  stopped,  and  the  new  kind  of  breakfast  was  pre- 
pared every  morning  and  enjoyed. 

Major  Claverden  thought  a  great  deal  and  talked  a 
great  deal  about  Dunworth's  absence.  He  talked  at 
home,  and  he  rode  over  to  the  Dunworth  place  and  talked 
to  Miss  Airpenny. 

"There  is  every  reason  to  suppose,"  said  he  to  the 
latter,  "  that  my  young  friend  is  with  his  sister.  But  why 
he  does  not  write  I  cannot  imagine !  " 

"Now  really,  sir,"  exclaimed  Miss  Airpenny,  "don't 
you  think  that  this  business  of  trying  to  imagine  why  peo- 
ple don't  do  this  thing  or  that  is  very  tiresome?  It  is  not 
only  that,  but  it  is  dangerous.  It  is  like  twirling  one's 
self  about  with  a  gun  in  one's  hand  and  firing  at  random, 
hoping  to  hit  a  bird.  There  is  about  a  chance  in  a  million 
that  one  may  hit  a  bird,  but  one  is  much  more  likely  to 
kill  a  neighbor's  child." 

The  major  smiled.  "I  have  no  desire,  madam,  to 
commit  murder  with  my  suppositions." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "  but  wild  imag- 
inings may  do  almost  as  much  harm  as  wild  shots." 

"  Your  sentiments  are  highly  commendable,  madam," 
said  the  major,  "  and  I  will  restrict  my  suppositions  to 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  153 

what  you  may  consider  a  blank  cartridge.  I  will  take  it 
for  granted  that,  intending  every  day  to  return,  Mr.  Dun- 
worth  does  not  think  it  worth  while  to  write." 

Miss  Airpenny  agreed  that  this  sort  of  shot  would  not 
hurt  anybody.  And  after  making  a  hearty  offer  of  his 
services,  or  his  advice,  should  either  be  needed,  Major 
Claverden  took  his  leave. 

Jack  Surrey  did  not  believe  that  Dunworth  had  been 
called  from  home  by  family  affairs.  The  man  on  the 
horse  who  had  dashed  away  from  Ridgeby  Caves  was  not 
absent  because  he  wanted  to  see  his  sister.  "  What  I 
must  do,"  thought  Surrey,  "  is  to  have  my  say  with  Ardis 
Claverden  before  that  fellow  comes  back! " 

There  were  not  many  visitors  now  at  Bald  Hill,  but 
Egbert  Dalrymple,  very  correctly  attired  in  riding  costume, 
ambled  up  to  the  door  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on 
which  Ardis  had  departed ;  but  on  being  informed  that 
the  young  lady  had  gone  away  on  a  visit  to  Heatherley, 
he  slightly  frowned,  cast  his  eyes  upon  the  ground,  and 
rode  away. 

Jack  Surrey  looked  after  him.  "  There  is  no  danger  in 
that  fellow,"  he  said.  "  There  is  not  enough  of  the  stay- 
ing quality  in  him.  But  if  I  really  thought  that  such  an 
ass  had  any  chance  of  first  reaching  the  winning-post,  I 
should  be  ashamed  to  be  in  the  race ! " 


154  AKDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

LIKE  Mr.  Surrey,  Ardis  knew  very  well  that  Roger 
Dunworth  had  not  gone  to  see  his  sister.  That  he 
had  gone  at  all  troubled  her  much.  And  yet  she  did  not 
blame  herself  for  anything  she  had  said  or  done.  Under 
similar  circumstances  she  would  again  say  to  him  the 
same  things.  That  which  grieved  and  troubled  her  had 
been  an  accident,  and  a  most  unfortunate  one.  Had  not 
Mr.  Dunworth  appeared  at  the  only  time  when  he  could 
have  received  that  false  and  shocking  impression,  there 
would  have  been  nothing  to  regret,  except,  indeed,  Mr. 
Surrey's  impropriety. 

She  now  believed  that  he  had  come  to  the  Ridgeby 
Caves  because  he  was  in  a  better  state  of  mind  than  when 
she  had  last  seen  him,  and  had  determined  to  put  himself 
on  his  old  footing,  and  to  be  the  good  friend  and  com- 
panion of  former  days.  That  this  purpose  had  been 
thwarted  in  the  most  unfortunate  way  agitated  the  soul 
of  Ardis  as  it  never  had  been  agitated  before.  She  now 
desired  nothing  so  much  as  the  opportunity  of  explaining 
everything  to  Roger  Dunworth. 

There  was  a  certain  sensation  heretofore  very  unusual 
with  Ardis,  which  at  this  time  frequently  possessed  her ; 
and  this  was  the  sensation  of  fear.  It  was  a  nervous 
dread  that  Roger  Dunworth  would  again  make  his  appear- 
ance when  she  and  Surrey  were  together.  She  was  very 
sure  that  the  latter  would  not  omit  the  courteous  perform- 
ance of  coming  to  Heatherley  to  take  leave  of  her,  when 
about  to  end  his  visit  to  Bald  Hill.  This  event  might 


ARDIS  CL  AVER  DEN.  155 

take  place  at  any  time,  and  under  its  cover  she  knew 
that  he  would  have  something  to  say.  She  also  would 
have  something  to  say  which  should  be  very  brief  and  de- 
cisive. But  the  presentiment  never  left  her  that  at  the 
moment  of  this  conference,  short  as  it  might  be,  there 
would  appear  before  her  the  pained  and  pallid  face  of 
Roger.  This  feeling  was  so  strong  that  she  sometimes 
found  herself  looking  out  of  an  upper  window,  this  way 
and  that,  to  see  if  some  one  were  coming.  Should  the 
some  one  be  Roger  Dunworth,  she  would  hasten  to  meet 
him ;  and,  after  that,  the  sooner  Surrey  came  the  better, 
in  order  that  he  might  know  what  she  had  to  tell  him  and 
depart. 

But  her  agitation  and  her  nervous  fear  were  known 
only  to  herself.  She  would  not  have  it  supposed  that  she 
had  anything  to  do  with  the  absence  of  Roger  Dunworth ; 
or  that  it  occasioned  in  her  anything  more  than  the  natu- 
ral anxiety  which  it  gave  to  all  his  friends  and  neighbors. 
The  Cranton  family  found  her  a  most  lively  and  agree- 
able visitor. 

But  it  was  not  only  the  Heatherley  people  who  found 
her  agreeable.  On  the  third  day  after  her  arrival  there 
Mr.  Egbert  Dalrymple  appeared;  this  time  alone  in  a 
buggy,  and  in  an  attire  suited  to  the  season  of  early 
autumn.  The  brownish-green  hue  of  his  harmonious 
garments  was  relieved  by  a  single  touch  of  color. 

Ardis  was  glad  to  see  him.  It  is  true  she  knew  him 
but  slightly,  and  when  they  had  talked  of  him  she  and 
Norma  had  laughed  at  him ;  but  she  was  very  well  satis- 
fied that  he  should  come  at  this  time.  The  Cranton 
family  was  a  busy  one,  and  unless  she  followed  its  mem- 
bers about,  a  proceeding  not  always  desirable  to  them  or 
to  herself,  she  was  frequently  left  alone.  It  was  at  these 
periods  she  most  feared  the  arrival  of  Surrey,  and  that 


156  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

in  one  of  them  Mr.  Dalrymple  should  come  instead  was 
a  relief.  Therefore  it  was  that  she  held  out  her  hand 
with  a  bright  smile  to  Mr.  Dalrymple. 

This  young  man  was  not  given  to  concealing  his  senti- 
ments. Whatever  his  mood  he  made  it  apparent ;  and  if 
it  suited  him  to  put  his  thoughts  into  words,  it  mattered 
little  to  him  whether  or  not  other  people  cared  to  hear 
those  words.  He  soon  made  it  plain  to  Ardis  that  he  had 
come  there  expressly  to  see  her;  that  it  gave  him  great 
pleasure  to  see  her;  and  that  he  did  not  want  to  see  any- 
body else.  These  sentiments,  enunciated  with  a  tasteful 
force  peculiar  to  Mr.  Dalrymple,  amused  her  and  did  not 
displease  her. 

When  he  had  been  with  her  from  five  to  seven  minutes, 
Mr.  Dalrymple,  still  seated,  threw  himself  into  an  attitude 
of  respectful  importunity. 

"  Miss  Claverden,"  said  he,  "  will  you  not  drive  with 
me?  I  came  in  a  buggy  for  this.  The  day  is  all  that 
could  be  desired."  And  he  rose  to  his  feet  as  if  the 
matter  were  settled. 

His  assured  manner  made  Ardis  laugh.  "  If  you  had 
brought  a  larger  vehicle,"  she  said,  "  so  that  Miss  Cranton, 
who  is  my  friend  and  hostess,  could  go  with  us,  your  in- 
vitation might  have  been  considered." 

Mr.  Dalrymple  folded  his  arms  and  gazed  over  them  to 
the  floor.  "Miss  Cranton?"  he  said.  "So!"  Then 
suddenly  turning  toward  Ardis,  "  I  cannot  comprehend," 
he  said,  "  this  craving  for  other  people.  I  abhor  other 
people!  They  are  always  in  the  way!  One  cannot  es- 
tablish a  harmony  if  other  people  are  tolerated.  Do  you 
follow  me,  Miss  Claverden?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  Ardis.  "  And  may  I  ask,  Mr.  Dal- 
rymple, if  you  are  a  proficient  in  the  art  of  establishing 
harmonies?" 


ARDIS  CLA  VEKDEN. 


'57 


"Proficient!"  exclaimed  the  young  gentlemen,  "I 
would  I  were!  "  And  his  face  grew  sombre.  Then  sud- 
denly his  expression  changed  to  one  of  thoughtful  deter- 
mination, lightened  by  a  touch  of  hopeful  belief.  He 
placed  a  chair  in  front  of  Ardis  and  sat  down,  one  foot 
advanced,  the  other  drawn  well  back,  his  body  slightly  in- 
clined forward,  and  his  right  hand  in  the  breast  of  his 
partly  buttoned  coat.  "Miss  Claverden,"  he  said,  "har- 
monies depend  upon  sympathies.  And  perfect  sympa- 
thies— how  rare!  There  are  millions  of  stars  in  the  sky 
at  night,  but  have  you  ever  tried  to  find  two  which  are 
verily  alike?  There  are  such.  We  know  it.  But  the 
task  of  discovering  them  is  arduous  indeed !  " 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  Ardis,  "  but  when  I  was 
a  little  girl  I  used  to  try  to  find  two  sassafras  leaves  that 
were  alike.  You  can't  imagine,  Mr.  Dalrymple,  how 
almost  impossible  it  is  to  establish  a  harmony  in  a  sassa- 
fras tree." 

Mr.  Dalrymple  made  no  answer  to  this  remark,  and  his 
face  indicated  the  presence  of  a  gentle  pain,  quickly  fol- 
lowed by  a  generous  resignation.  He  let  his  eyes  move 
around  the  room ;  they  fell  upon  the  piano.  He  arose, 
approached  it,  and  picked  up  a  piece  of  music.  Then 
he  dropped  casually  upon  the  stool,  and  strummed  a  few 
notes.  After  a  little  he  turned  himself  about,  and,  still 
seated  on  the  stool,  began  to  talk  of  Mendelssohn  and 
Strauss.  The  conversation  on  musical  subjects  continued 
until  Norma  came  in,  and,  very  shortly  after  this,  the 
visitor  departed. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Egbert  Dalrymple  came  again ;  this 
time  bringing  Ardis  a  bouquet  composed  of  a  few  long- 
stemmed  flowers  harmoniously  arranged.  As  he  entered 
the  parlor  he  noticed  that  Ardis  was  dressed  in  blue,  and, 
therefore,  drawing  from  his  bouquet  a  spray  of  purple 


158  AKDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

blossoms,  the  most  beautiful  of  all,  he  threw  it  out  of  the 
window.  Then,  with  a  bow,  he  begged  Miss  Claverden 
to  be  seated  and  laid  his  offering  in  her  lap. 

Every  morning  this  young  gentleman  came  to  Heather- 
ley,  and  his  coming  created  a  great  deal  of  amusement  in 
the  Cranton  household.  Ardis  laughed  as  much  as  any  of 
them — no  one  would  have  connected  nervous  agitation  or 
mental  dread  with  her  demeanor — but  she  did  not  dis- 
courage the  visits  of  the  young  man. 

It  was  in  the  mornings  that  she  was  most  alone ;  it  was 
in  the  mornings  that  he  came ;  and  it  was  in  the  mornings 
that  she  looked  out  for  the  approach  of  Dun  worth,  or  of 
Surrey.  If  the  first  had  come,  how  quickly  would  Egbert 
Dalrymple  have  been  shaken  off!  If  the  latter,  how 
closely  would  he  have  been  detained! 

It  is  true  that  Ardis  frequently  felt  herself  bored  by  the 
effort  to  establish  harmonies,  whether  between  flowers  or 
stars,  or  human  souls ;  but  anything  of  this  sort  was  better 
than  the  terrible  discordance  for  which  she  was  continually 
looking  out.  In  the  matter  of  conversational  intercourse 
she  would  have  preferred  visits  from  Dr.  Lester,  but  she 
feared  Dr.  Lester  was  a  man  who  would  courteously  retire 
before  a  Surrey.  Egbert  Dalrymple  she  knew  would  retire 
before  no  man  so  long  as  she  allowed  him  to  stay.  And 
then  again  Dr.  Lester  did  not  come  to  Heatherley  during 
Ardis's  stay.  There  was  something  strange  in  this,  and  it 
was  talked  about  by  the  Crantons.  Ardis  was  sorry  that 
her  old  friend  stayed  away;  knowing  his  helpful  disposi- 
tion and  his  devotion  to  his  friends,  she  conjectured  that 
he  did  not  accept  the  general  interpretation  of  Roger 
Dunworth's  absence,  and  that  he  was  looking  deeper  into 
the  matter  than  any  one  else  had  done.  Therefore  she 
wished  to  see  him,  hoping  that  she  might  learn  what  he 
had.  learned. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  159 

But  instead  of  Roger  Dunworth,  or  Mr.  Surrey,  or  Drf 
Lester,  every  day  came  Egbert  Dalrymple ;  and  no  bolder, 
franker,  and  more  truly  uncloaked  suitor  ever  entered  lists 
to  fight  for  lady's  hand.  Other  men  might  adore  in  secret, 
plan  and  contrive,  rack  themselves  with  jealousy,  or  sadly 
assign  themselves  to  their  fate.  His  business  in  life  was 
to  establish  a  harmony  with  Ardis  Claverden,  and  to  that 
he  devoted  himself. 


160  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

ARDIS  had  now  been  ten  days  at  Heatherley,  and  her 
mind  began  to  be  disturbed  to  such  a  degree  that  it 
was  difficult  to  conceal  the  disturbance  under  her  ordinary 
demeanor.  Nothing  had  been  heard  from  Roger  Dun- 
worth,  and,  so  far  as  she  knew,  Mr.  Surrey  intended  to 
spend  the  autumn  at  Bald  Hill.  She  had  received  a  note 
from  her  father  in  which  he  said  he  thought  her  visit  to 
the  Crantons  had  continued  quite  long  enough,  but  he 
made  no  reference  to  the  departure  of  his  guest.  What 
she  ought  to  do  Ardis  knew  not.  To  stay  away  from 
home  any  longer  would  make  the  reason  plain  to  every- 
body and  that  very  unpleasantly.  To  acquaint  her  father 
with  the  real  reason  of  her  absence  would  make  it  neces- 
sary for  him  to  inflict  a  wound  upon  his  own  hospitable 
heart ;  and  to  go  to  Bald  Hill  while  Surrey  was  there  was 
impossible. 

Ardis  knew  that  Norma  understood  why  she  stayed 
away  from  her  home,  but  the  Cranton  family  must  soon 
begin  to  wonder  at  this  protracted  visit;  perhaps  the 
neighbors  were  already  talking  about  it,  and  even  her 
father  would  begin  to  suspect  that  there  must  be  an  un- 
usual reason  for  her  desertion  of  his  house  for  that  of  a 
friend,  so  easy  to  visit  at  any  time. 

The  feeling  that  something  ought  to  be  said  or  done 
weighed  heavily  upon  Ardis,  but  what  to  say  or  do  she 
could  not  decide.  Mr.  Dalrymple,  too,  was  beginning  to 
weigh  upon  her;  his  eccentricities  had  ceased  to  interest 
her  and  one  morning,  before  it  was  time  to  expect  him, 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEX.  161 

she  set  out  for  a  gallop  over  the  fields  on  her  mare,  Janet, 
which  she  had  had  brought  over  from  Bald  Hill. 

She  rode  through  the  apple  orchard  to  the  great  farm- 
yard, crossed  this,  and  at  the  other  side  ascended  the  slop- 
ing road  which  ran  along  the  side  of  the  uplands  which 
formed  the  principal  part  of  the  Heatherley  estate.  Out 
upon  the  open  fields,  with  a  beautiful  country  stretching 
far  around  her,  she  touched  her  mare  with  the  whip,  and 
away  they  went.  Reaching  the  top  of  a  gentle  eminence, 
which  was  the  highest  point  in  the  field,  Ardis  reined  up 
and  turned  about  to  survey  the  scene.  It  was  an  inter- 
esting country  over  which  she  gazed  and  it  was  her  own 
country.  Every  spot  she  saw  she  knew. 

Far  away  stretched  the  blue  line  of  the  mountains; 
forest  and  field  gave  various  shades  of  green  and  brown 
and  red  to  the  undulating  landscape;  the  little  river  Tar- 
diana  wound  through  the  scene  showing  itself  here  and 
there.  And  in  plain  view,  along  the  road  which  ran  by 
Heatherley,  appeared  a  horseman. 

Ardis  smiled.  "  It  is  poor  Mr.  Dalrymple,"  she  said  to 
herself.  But  instantly  she  changed  her  mind.  The 
horseman  was  too  far  away  for  her  to  recognize  him,  but 
he  was  not  coming  from  the  direction  of  the  Dalrymple 
place.  The  mare  was  anxious  to  go  on,  but  Ardis  re- 
strained her.  She  would  wait  and  see  whether  or  not  the 
man  turned  into  the  gateway. 

He  turned  into  the  gateway  and  as  he  did  so  Ardis 
recognized  her  father's  sorrel  riding  horse,  and,  soon  after, 
she  knew  the  rider  to  be  Mr.  Surrey. 

"Oho!  "  she  said  to  herself.  "  He  is  coming  to  make 
a  morning  call  at  Heatherley!"  A  slight  expression  of 
scorn  came  upon  the  face  of  Ardis.  "  The  farther  away 
the  better,"  she  said.  And  turning  Janet's  head  she  rode 
down  the  other  side  of  the  slope. 
ii 


1 62  AKDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

/  , 

Ardis  and  the  mare  had  a  good  hour  of  it,  galloping 
over  level  pastures,  fording  little  streams,  leaping  a  rail 
fence  now  and  then,  but  always  keeping  their  heads  turned 
away  from  Heatherley.  At  length  they  came  into  a  field 
by  which  ran  a  public  road,  and  on  this  road  Ardis  saw 
a  woman  jogging  slowly  on  a  stout  brown  horse.  This 
rider,  in  an  odd-looking  green  riding-habit,  could  have 
been  recognized  at  any  distance  as  Miss  Airpenny. 

Ardis  rode  rapidly  down  to  the  fence  and  put  her  mare 
straight  at  it.  It  was  rather  a  high  fence,  but  neither 
Janet  nor  her  rider  thought  for  a  moment  of  shirking  the 
leap.  The  animal  gathered  herself  up,  made  a  beautiful 
spring,  and  went  over  without  touching. 

"Now,  really!"  exclaimed  Miss  Airpenny,  not  a  hun- 
dred feet  away.  "  Is  that  the  way  you  ride,  and  all  alone 
too?  Don't  you  fancy  that  something  might  happen  to 
you,  and  nobody  by  ?  " 

Ardis  laughed.  "  You  nearly  always  ride  alone,  Miss 
Airpenny,"  she  said,  "and  yet  I  don't  believe  you  ever 
think  of  anything  happening  to  you." 

"I  don't  clear  fences,"  said  Miss  Airpenny.  "But 
something  has  happened  to  me.  And  a  very  pleasant 
thing  it  is,  too!  I  have  met  a  woman.  You  don't  know 
how  I  have  been  longing  for  the  sight  of  another  gown, 
besides  my  own." 

Both  riders  had  now  stopped  their  horses. 

"  Don't  you  find  your  present  matronly  position  a  con- 
genial one?"  asked  Ardis. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!  "  said  the  other.  "If  I  did  not  con- 
sider it  my  duty  to  stay  and  take  care  of  things  I  would 
leave  the  house  this  day.  You  can't  fancy  what  it  is  to 
live  with  three  regular  cubs,  and  an  irregular  cub  in  the 
shape  of  Tom  Prouter  dropping  in  at  any  moment !  Now 
do  you  want  to  do  a  charitable  deed?  Come  and  take 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  ^3 

dinner  with  me.  The  cubs  and  I  dine  early,  you  know. 
Take  pity  on  me,  and  come." 

Ardis  hesitated.  She  liked  Miss  Airpenny  and  would 
be  glad  to  visit  her.  There  was  no  reason  why  she  should 
not  go  to  the  Dunworth  place  since  Roger  was  not  there 
and  Miss  Airpenny  was  the  hostess;  and,  as  there  was 
every  reason  to  suppose  that  Mr.  Surrey  would  protract 
his  call  as  long  as  possible  in  order  to  see  her,  she  did  not 
wish  to  return  to  Heatherley  at  present.  After  a  few 
moments'  reflection  she  accepted  Miss  Airpenny's  invita- 
tion and  the  two  rode  on  together. 

"  Have  you  heard  anything  from  Mr.  Dunworth?  "  asked 
Ardis. 

"  Not  a  word,"  said  Miss  Airpenny.  "  And  you  are  the 
third  person  who  has  asked  after  him  to-day.  I  am  sure 
it  is  greatly  to  Mr.  Dunworth's  credit  that  his  neighbors 
take  such  an  interest  in  him." 

A  half-hour's  ride  brought  the  ladies  to  the  house,  and 
Parchester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean  were  not  displeased 
when  they  learned  who  was  to  dine  with  them  and  went 
upstairs  to  put  on  their  best  coats ;  while  Tom  Prouter,  who 
had  been  there  all  the  morning,  was  positively  delighted, 
and  thanked  the  happy  star  which  had  led  him  to  come 
and  make  his  inquiries  about  Dunworth  on  this  particular 
day.  It  was  a  lively  dinner  table,  for  Miss  Airpenny  who 
had  been  tired  of  talking  to  nobody  but  men  now  broke 
into  cheerful  chat,  and  Ardis  was  careful  to  allow  no 
change  to  appear  in  her  ordinary  sprightly  demeanor. 
The  three  pupils  listened  earnestly  and  laughed  a  good 
deal,  but  Prouter  took  his  full  share  in  the  conversation. 
The  remarks  in  reference  to  Miss  Claverden  and  himself, 
which  Cruppledean  had  once  made  to  him,  had  ceased  to 
depress  him.  His  boyish  face  glowed  with  unreasoning 
hopefulness. 


1 64  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

After  dinner  the  sky  began  to  darken  and  it  was  plain 
that  a  storm  was  coming,  and  when  Ardis  spoke  of  hasten- 
ing back  to  Heatherley  before  the  rain,  Miss  Airpenny 
took  a  look  at  the  clouds  and  would  not  let  her  go.  Fear- 
ing that  Norma  might  be  troubled  at  her  absence,  Ardis 
wrote  a  note  to  her,  explaining  the  situation,  and  sent  it 
to  Heatherley  by  a  negro  boy  who  thought  much  more  of 
an  actual  quarter-dollar  than  a  possible  drenching.  In  an 
hour  the  boy  returned,  having  got  his  drenching  in  spite 
of  the  wild  galloping  of  his  mule,  and  brought  an  answer 
from  Norma.  It  ran  thus: 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  away,  because  Mr.  Surrey  is  here. 
He  came  to  bid  you  good- by — he  says  both  of  us,  but  I 
don't  believe  it.  He  said  he  would  wait  until  you  re- 
turned, and  he  is  waiting  now.  Can't  you  stay  with  Miss 
Airpenny  until  I  send  you  word  that  he  has  gone  away? 
I  told  him  you  were  visiting  Miss  Airpenny  and  I  am 
sure  that  he  thinks  she  is  at  the  Quantrills',  and  if  he 
chooses  to  ride  over  there  it  is  his  own  business." 

In  consequence  of  this  note ;  of  the  fact  that  the  storm 
had  developed  into  a  steady  rain ;  and  of  Miss  Airpenn^'s 
most  pressing  invitation,  Ardis  determined  to  spend  the 
night  where  she  was.  Never  was  necessary  farm  work 
hurried  through  so  rapidly  as  on  that  afternoon.  When 
Miss  Airpenny  came  into  the  parlor  an  hour  before  sun- 
set, and  saw  the  three  farm  pupils  sitting  there  in  their 
best  clothes,  she  was  surprised. 

"  Have  you  seen  that  the  milking  has  been  done,  and 
that  the  cattle  and  horses  have  been  properly  attended 
to?"  she  asked. 

"All  is  arranged,"  said  Parchester,  with  much  com- 
placency; and  he  with  Skitt  and  Cruppledean  continued 
to  sit  and  bask  in  the  presence  of  Miss  Claverden,  while 
Tom  Prouter  talked  with  her.  Mr.  Prouter  had  no  more 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  165 

idea  of  going  home  that  night  to  attend  to  his  own  busi- 
ness than  he  had  of  going  to  the  house  of  some  distant 
stranger  to  attend  to  his  business,  and  after  supper  he 
gave  some  interesting  details  in  regard  to  his  milk  route. 

"The  day  before  yesterday,"  said  he,  "I  made  up  my 
mind  that  the  milk  business  is  a  tiresome  bore,  and  that  I 
would  give  it  up.  And  when  I  came  over  here  to-day  I 
hoped  I  would  find  Dunworth  had  come  back,  so  that  I 
could  try  to  get  him  to  buy  the  milk  route  with  all  the 
plant." 

"  I  expected  that,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "  but  you  have 
given  up  very  soon.  I  thought  you  would  hold  out  till 
the  middle  of  October.  They  have  frost  here  by  that 
time,  you  know,  and  I  expected  that  to  nip  you  and  your 
projects." 

"  Frost !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Prouter,  "  I  care  no  more  for 
frost  than  for  sunshine !  But  I'll  tell  you  what  did  nip 
me.  For  a  week  or  more  I've  been  driving  one  of  the 
wagons  and  serving  the  milk,  for  since  I  have  given  up 
going  round  the  country  for  no  particular  purpose  I'm 
bound  to  be  busy  at  something,  you  know.  I  found  serv- 
ing milk  rather  jolly  too,  because  I  had  never  done  it  be- 
fore and  it  was  altogether  a  new  kind  of  fun.  But  the  day 
before  yesterday  a  big,  fat,  dirty  black  woman  with  an  old 
pitcher  in  one  hand  and  six  coppers  in  the  other  came 
out  to  me,  and  when  I  poured  out  a  quart  of  milk  for  her 
she  said :  *  Mister,  I  reckon  you  feeds  your  cows  on  lemon 
skins,  'cause  the  milk  gits  sour  almost  as  soon  as  you's 
done  gone.'  *  Now,  look  here,  Aunt  Polly,  or  whatever 
your  name  is,'  said  I,  '  I  don't  believe  you  ever  wash  that 
pitcher.  You  go  and  tell  your  mistress  that  she  can't  ex- 
pect to  have  sweet  milk  if  it's  put  in  a  pitcher  with  old 
milk  sticking  to  the  sides  a  week  at  a  time.'  '  Mistress! ' 
said  she,  '  I  ain't  got  no  mistress/  *  Who's  this  milk  for? ' 


1 66  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

said  I.  '  It's  fer  me,'  said  she,  '  me  an'  the  chillun/ 
1  Do  you  mean  to  say/  said  I,  '  that  for  a  week  past  I  have 
been  bringing  milk  to  you?  '  '  Yas,  you  has/  said  she,  'an7 
ain't  I  paid  you? '  Now,  when  the  idea  came  to  me  that 
I,  a  gentleman,  you  know,  was  making  my  living  by  fetch- 
ing milk  to  dirty  black  niggers  it  made  my  blood  boil!  If 
there  had  been  a  mistress  behind  her  I  wouldn't  have 
minded,  but  to  be  milkman  to  that  African  slattern  was 
too  much!  I  slung  the  pennies  she  had  paid  me  on  the 
sidewalk,  and  jerking  the  pitcher  from  her  hand  I  dashed 
it  into  the  middle  of  the  street,  breaking  it  into  bits,  and 
splashing  the  side  of  a  carriage  with  milk-mud,  which  I 
fancy  had  never  happened  to  it  before.  I  tossed  the 
woman  half  a  dollar  with  which  to  buy  a  clean  pitcher, 
and  then  I  set  off  at  a  gallop  and  ran  over  two  ducks  for 
which  I  had  to  pay  a  nigger  shoemaker  seventy-five  cents-, 
though  I'm  sure  he  sent  them  to  market  afterward.  And 
as  to  the  rest  of  my  customers,  I  forgot  all  about  them, 
and  there  was  a  row  the  next  day.  Now,  you  know  that 
sort  of  thing  don't  pay,  to  say  nothing  of  a  man's  family 
feelings.  Really,  wasn't  that  reason  enough  for  me  to  say 
that  I  would  wash  my  hands  of  that  milk?  " 

There  was  a  laugh  and  a  general  assent  that  his  reason 
was  sufficient. 

"  Because  you  know,"  said  Ardis,  "  as  you  are  bound  to 
give  up  the  business  any  way,  you  might  as  well  give  it  up 
for  that  reason  as  for  any  other." 

This  remark  plunged  Prouter  into  sudden  thought. 
Did  not  Miss  Claverden  believe  in  his  determination  to 
be  a  man  among  men?  Instantly  there  was  a  change  in 
his  ideas. 

"  But  I  am  not  going  to  give  it  up!  "  he  cried.  "  Day 
before  yesterday  was  one  thing,  and  to-day  is  quite  an- 
other. I  may  not  drive  the  wagons  any  more,  but  I  do 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  167 

not  intend  to  be  idle.  I  may  as  well  stick  to  it.  I  dare 
say  there's  a  dirty  nigger  with  an  unwashed  pitcher  in 
every  profession,  and  I'll  take  mine  just  as  other  people 
have  to  take  theirs.  Now,  that's  the  way  to  look  at  it, 
isn't  it,  Miss  Claverden?  " 

"  That  is  a  way  to  look  at  it,"  said  Ardis. 

"  But  you  surely  think  that  a  man  ought  not  to  sit  idle 
when  everybody  else  is  working?" 

"  I  certainly  think  so,17  was  the  answer. 

"  Good !  "  exclaimed  Prouter,  clapping  his  hands  on  his 
knees. 

"  Do  you  mean,"  asked  Skitt,  when  the  ladies  had 
retired  for  the  night,  "  that  you  are  going  to  keep  up  that 
beastly  milk  business?" 

"  I  mean,"  said  Prouter,  standing  up  very  straight,  with 
a  lighted  match  in  one  hand  and  a  pipe  in  the  other, 
"  that  living  in  a  land  where  man  proves  his  worth  by 
honest  endeavor  I  intend  to  do  that  same  thing  myself." 

Parchester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean  laughed  unrestrain- 
edly. "  You  didn't  think  of  all  that  before  you  saw  Miss 
Claverden  to-day,  did  you?  "  asked  the  latter. 

"  No,  sir,  I  did  not,"  answered  Prouter,  with  flashing 
eyes,  "but  I  think  of  it  now! "  And  he  lighted  his  pipe 
just  before  the  flame  of  the  match  reached  his  fingers. 


1 68  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

THE  Dunworth  house,  although  but  two  stories  high, 
was  a  long  one  and  covered  a  good  deal  of  ground ; 
and  on  the  first  floor,  at  the  extreme  end  of  the  building, 
were  two  guest  chambers,  opening  into  each  other,  one  of 
which  Miss  Airpenny  had  appropriated  to  herself,  and  to 
the  other  she  conducted  Ardis.  Farther  back  than  these 
rooms,  on  the  other  side  of  a  hall,  stood  the  large  room  of 
the  master  of  the  house. 

"  Look  in  here,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  as  with  a  lamp  in 
her  hand  she  approached  the  open  door  of  this  room.  "  I 
keep  everything  ready  for  him  whenever  he  chooses  to 
come  back.  Tom  Prouter  wanted  to  sleep  in  here  be- 
cause he  said  the  room  was  a  comfortable  one,  and  might 
as  well  be  used.  But  I  wouldn't  listen  to  it.  When  a 
man  has  true  English  blood  in  his  veins,  as  Mr.  Dunworth 
has,  and  goes  away  when  he  feels  like  it,  it  is  no  more 
than  due  to  him  that  he  shall  find  everything  ready  for 
him  when  he  feels  like  coming  back.  I  had  a  brother 
who  started  off  one  morning  to  buy  a  horse,  but  instead 
of  that  he  went  to  Canada  and  staid  four  year*  and  made 
a  lot  of  money,  and  when  he  came  back  he  threw  his  hat 
on  the  table  and  his  top-coat  over  the  back  of  his  chair, 
just  as  if  what  he  had  done  had  been  a  matter  of  course. 
That's  the  way  they  all  do  it,  and  they  can't  see  why 
people  should  be  surprised.  True  English  blood  will  tell !  " 
Ardis  looked  into  the  room  with  a  peculiar  interest.  The 
books,  the  large  table  littered  with  paper  bags  of  seed  and 
this,  that,  and  the  other  thing  which  Roger  had  temporarily 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  169 

laid  there;  the  arm-chair  pushed  obliquely  back  from  the 
table ;  the  long  overcoat  and  hat  hanging  against  the  wall ; 
the  narrow  bed  in  a  far  corner;  everything  in  the  room 
impressed  Ardis  with  the  personality  of  its  owner.  She 
had  never  seen  this  room  before,  but  in  it  she  could  see 
so  much  that  represented  Roger  Dunworth  that  the  man 
himself  seemed  to  be  near  her. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "  that  somehow, 
when  I  look  into  this  room  I  can't  help  fancying  it  be- 
longed to  somebody  dead  and  gone?  But  I  give  such 
thoughts  short  shrift,  I  tell  you.  I'd  as  lief  be  a  French 
woman  as  to  think  like  that !  " 

When  Ardis  had  gone  to  bed  she  did  not  feel  at  all 
like  sleeping.  The  oddness  of  her  situation  kept  her 
mind  very  active.  When  she  was  a  little  girl  and  Roger 
Dunworth's  parents  were  alive;  she  had  visited  this  house, 
but  she  had  seen  only  a  few  of  the  rooms  and  did  not 
remember  them  very  well.  It  was  strange  to  be  here  now, 
and  as  the  guest  of  Miss  Airpenny!  It  seemed  to  Ardis 
that  Roger's  room  had  done  more  to  impress  him  upon 
her  mind  than  all  her  previous  intercourse  with  him.  This 
may  have  been  so,  or  it  may  have  been  that  the  sight  of 
the  room,  with  all  its  suggestions  of  personality,  had  fixed 
and  set  impressions  which  had  before  been  but  partially 
developed.  With  her  eyes  shut  or  open  he  was  before  her, 
and  he  stood  in  the  position  which  he  had  chosen  to  take, 
and  not  in  the  one  in  which  she  had  wished  him  to  stand. 
She  went  to  sleep  thinking  of  him,  and  thinking  of  him  in 
the  light  of  a  lover. 

Ardis  did  not  sleep  well.  Even  after  she  had  dropped 
into  a  doze  she  was  aroused  by  the  young  men  going  up- 
stairs. Pupils  of  husbandry  with  a  guest  in  their  midst 
are  apt  to  be  noisy,  and  although  these  young  fellows  had 
no  idea  that  they  disturbed  the  ladies  sleeping  at  the  other 


170  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

end  of  the  house,  the  slamming  of  the  front  door  and  their 
heavy  boots  upon  the  stairs  aroused  Ardis,  and  she  could 
hear  Miss  Airpenny  in  the  next  room  turn  over  and 
grumble.  Even  after  the  young  men  had  gone  up-stairs 
they  could  occasionally  be  heard,  and  after  Ardis  had  sup- 
posed she  had  been  asleep  for  hours  she  was  half-awakened 
by  the  sound  of  footsteps  and  of  closing  doors. 

In  the  morning  she  arose  early,  before  Miss  Airpenny, 
and  went  out  upon  the  piazza..  The  air  was  fresh  and 
cool  with  white  clouds  hurrying  across  the  blue  sky. 
Voices  could  be  heard  in  the  distant  farm-yard,  but  she 
saw  no  one,  until  a  boy,  whom  she  recognized  as  the  little 
fellow  who,  mounted  on  a  much-too-spirited  horse,  had 
once  been  sent  after  a  runaway  steer,  came  over  the  lawn 
toward  the  house,  his  boots  shining  from  contact  with  the 
wet  grass. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Mr.  Parchester  is,  ma'am  ?  "  asked 
the  boy. 

"  No,"  said  Ardis.  "  Have  you  looked  for  him  at  the 
barn?1' 

"  He's  not  there,"  said  the  boy.  "  I  reckon  he's  not  up 
yet.  Will  you  please  give  him  this  note,  ma'am,  when  he 
comes  down?"  And  going  up  the  piazza  steps  the  boy 
handed  Ardis  a  folded  slip  of  paper.  "  Mr.  Dunworth  told 
me  just  to  give  it  to  him,  and  there  wouldn't  be  no  an- 
swer," said  the  boy,  as  he  went  down  the  steps. 

"  Who  told  you?  "  exclaimed  Ardis,  advancing  suddenly 
to  the  edge  of  the  piazza. 

The  boy  stopped.  "  Mr.  Dunworth,  ma'am,"  he  said. 
"  He  give  it  to  me  early  this  mornin' ;  it  wasn't  real  day- 
light yet.  I  was  goin'  out  to  look  at  my  traps  an'  nobody 
else  was  up.  He  give  me  that  note  to  give  to  Mr.  Par- 
Chester  just  before  he  went  away." 

Under  ordinarv  circumstances  Ardis  would  have  told 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  !7! 

the  boy  that  he  should  not  set  traps  at  this  time  of  the 
year,  but  now  she  thought  of  no  such  trifle.  Her  eyes 
were  wide  open,  her  lips  were  slightly  parted,  her  whole 
soul  was  intent  upon  the  answer  to  the  questions  which 
she  rapidly  put  to  the  boy.  "  When  did  he  come  ? 
Where  did  he  go  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  when  he  came,  ma'am ;  reckon  it  must 
'a'  been  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  I  asked  'em  down 
at  the  barn,  but  nobody  seen  him  but  me.  I  reckon  he 
come  on  Dr.  Lester's  yellow  horse,  for  that's  left  in  the 
stable,  but  he  went  away  on  his  own  horse — that  big  bay, 
ma'am,  that  you  once  rode." 

"And  he  didn't  say  where  he  was  going  ?  "  asked  Ardis. 

"  Not  to  me,  ma'am,"  said  the  boy.  "All  he  said  to  me 
was  to  give  that  note  to  Mr.  Parchester."  And  then, 
having  told  all  that  he  knew,  the  boy  went  away. 

Ardis  stood  motionless  with  the  folded  paper  in  her 
hand,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  distant  landscape,  but 
seeing  nothing.  Roger  Dunworth  had  been  here!  He 
had  been  here,  and  she  had  been  in  his  house !  It  had 
been  he  whom  she  had  heard  in  the  night  walking  about 
and  shutting  doors.  And  she  in  his  house!  Now 
she  remembered  something.  There  were  two  entrance 
ways  to  this  old  mansion,  both  opening  on  the  long  front 
piazza ;  the  smaller  and  narrower  hallway  lay  between  the 
guest  chambers  and  Roger  Uunworth's  room.  By  this 
smaller  door  Ardis  and  Miss  Airpenny  had  gone  to  their 
rooms  the  evening  before,  and  Ardis  remembered  that 
Miss  Airpenny  had  locked  it  behind  them.  Ardis  had 
found  this  door  open  this  morning,  but  had  thought  noth- 
ing of  the  circumstance.  But  now  she  felt  sure  that  Roger 
Dunworth  had  gone  out  of  that  door.  He  had  come  in 
some  other  way ;  he  had  been  in  his  room,  hours  perhaps ; 
and  he  had  gone  out  of  that  door  in  the  early,  early 


172  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

morning,  leaving  it  open.     He  had  passed  by  the  very 
door  of  her  room!     And  he  had  gone!     And  where? 

Ardis  stood  still,  thinking  vehemently.  He  had  seen 
no  one;  he  could  have  had  no  idea  she  was  there.  Had 
he  known  she  was  there,  would  he  have  staid?  Had 
she  known  he  was  there,  she  would  have  called  to  him; 
she  would  have  dressed  herself  and  gone  out  to  him ;  she 
would  have  told  him  what  a  dreadful  and  wrong  impres- 
sion he  had  received  the  day  he  came  to  the  Ridgeby 
Caves;  and  then,  had  he  chosen,  he  might  have  gone. 
But  he  would  have  known. 

But  here  was  this  note.  This  might  tell  something. 
Where  was  Mr.  Parchester?  She  stepped  quickly  to  the 
large  front  door,  but  it  was  locked.  Then  she  went  back 
to  the  other  door  and  entered  the  house.  She  walked 
along  the  passage,  but  saw  no  one.  The  door  of  Roger 
Dunworth's  room  was  open  wide,  and  as  she  passed  it  she 
could  not  help  looking  in.  It  was  just  as  she  had  seen  it 
the  evening  before.  But  no!  The  heavy  overcoat  and  hat 
that  had  hung  against  the  wall  were  gone.  Her  quick  eye 
noticed  this,  and  the  sight  of  the  empty  peg  struck  her 
like  a  missile.  If  he  had  intended  soon  to  return,  Roger 
would  not  have  taken  that  great,  heavy  overcoat.  She 
turned  quickly  and  went  away,  and  as  she  walked  toward 
the  open  door  she  heard  footsteps  upon  the  piazza.  She 
ran  out,  and  there  she  saw  Mr.  Parchester,  always  the 
earliest  riser  of  the  pupils,  who  had  just  come  out  of  the 
large  front  door.  She  hurried  toward  him. 

"  Mr.  Parchester,"  she  said,  "  here  is  a  note  for  you 
from  Mr.  Dunworth.  It  was  handed  to  me  by  a  boy. 
Will  you  please  read  it  quickly,  and  tell  me  where  he  is  ?  " 

Mr.  Parchester  was  surprised  at  the  pale  face  and  earn- 
est manner  of  Miss  Claverden,  and  he  was  somewhat  con- 
fused because  he  had  on  his  rough  and  soiled  farm  clothes, 


AKDIS   CLAVEKDEN.  173 

/ 

not  expecting  to  meet  the  young  lady  so  early  in  the 
morning.  But  he  was  not  in  the  least  perturbed  by  re- 
ceiving a  note  from  Mr.  Dunworth,  and  he  immediately 
opened  and  read  it.  "  There  is  not  much  in  it,"  he  said, 
"  and  he  does  not  give  his  address."  And  he  handed  the 
note  to  Ardis.  She  read  it  eagerly.  It  ran  thus: 

"  Mr.  Parchester: — I  do  not  know  when  I  shall  be  back. 
I  leave  the  direction  of  the  farm  to  you.  Do  not  attempt 
anything  new.  You  know  the  fields  which  are  for  wheat 
this  season.  Have  it  put  in  as  it  was  last  year.  Get 
everything  ready  for  winter. 

"  Yours  truly,  R.  D." 

There  was  a  strange  appearance  in  Ardis1  eyes  as  she 
looked  up  from  this  note  to  Mr.  Parchester' s  face.  "  It 
seems,"  she  said,  and  the  words  did  not  appear  to  come 
easily,  "  as  if  Mr.  Dunworth  intended  to  stay  away  for  a 
long  time." 

Mr.  Parchester  looked  steadily  at  the  beautiful  eyes 
which  were  fixed  upon  him.  He  imagined  that  tears  were 
trying  to  get  into  them.  "It  does  look  that  way,"  he 
said,  thinking  but  little  of  his  instructor's  intended  ab- 
sence and  very  much  of  the  eyes. 

Generally  Ardis  had  good  control  over  herself;  but  very 
early  in  the  morning,  when  one  had  not  slept  well,  strong 
emotion  is  apt  to  get  the  advantage  of  ordinary  control. 
The  tears  did  come  into  her  eyes.  She  saw  that  her  com- 
panion was  looking  at  her  with  great  interest,  and  she  sa\v, 
too,  that  he  knew  what  it  was  in  which  she  took  so  great 
an  interest. 

Her  present  state  of  mind  was  novel  to  her.  It  an- 
noyed her,  but  she  could  not  help  it.  She  knew  it  meant 
a  great  deal,  but  she  did  not  now  endeavor  to  define  to 


J74  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

herself  what  it  meant.  She  looked  at  Mr.  Parchester ;  she 
knew  that  by  the  emotion  she  "had  shown,  she  had  taken 
this  man,  almost  a  stranger,  into  her  confidence. 

Ardis  was  quick  to  act.  She  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 
Mr.  Parchester's  hand  was  very  large,  the  palm  red  and 
rough,  and  the  back  of  it  hairy  and  covered  with  freckles, 
and  in  it  he  took  the  soft  white  hand  of  Ardis,  and  held 
it  for  a  moment. 

"  Mr.  Parchester,"  said  she,  "you  will  not  speak  of  this, 
will  you?"  She  did  not  say  what  it  was  of  which  she 
would  not  have  him  speak,  but  he  knew,  and  promised 
never  to  speak  of  it.  And  he  never  did. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  175 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE  intelligence  of  the  night  visit  of  Roger  Dunworth 
to  his  home  caused  much  commotion  in  the  house- 
hold, and  was  the  subject  of  anxious  conversation  at  the 
breakfast-table.  Miss  Airpenny  was  forced  to  admit  that 
the  restlessness  of  true  English  blood  was  not  sufficient 
to  account  for  this  form  of  absentation.  There  must  be 
at  the  bottom  of  it  something  she  could  not  understand. 

"  I  dare  say  it's  money,"  said  Tom  Prouter.  "  When  a 
man  goes  off  this  way  it's  as  like  as  not  there's  money 
trouble  at  the  bottom  of  it.  There  was  a  gentleman  in 
Fligwich — where  my  family  live,  Miss  Claverden — who 
went  off  in  very  much  this  way  and  staid  a  fortnight; 
but  he  came  back  all  right,  an  uncle  having  died  in  the 
mean  time." 

"  But  that  sort  of  thing  can't  be  depended  on  to  hap- 
pen," said  Miss  Airpenny. 

"  Now  then,"  said  Mr.  Parchester,  speaking  up  in  a  bold 
manner  very  unusual  with  him,  "that's  all  stuff  about 
money  troubles.  I  know  that  last  year  was  a  very  pros- 
perous one  with  Mr.  Dunworth,  and  there  is  no  reason  to 
suppose  that  he  has  not  all  the  money  he  wants.  He  has 
gone  away  to  attend  to  his  own  business  in  his  own  way, 
and  when  he  has  attended  to  it  he  will  come  back ;  and 
that's  all  there  is  about  it!  "  As  he  finished  speaking  he 
could  not  help  glancing  at  Ardis,  and  the  look  of  grati- 
tude which  he  received  sent  the  blood  into  his  face,  which, 
however,  was  not  noticed  on  account  of  his  general  red- 
ness. 


1 76  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  right,"  said  Ardis,  "  and  I  am 
sure  that  Mr.  Dunworth  would  not  have  gone  away,  if  he 
had  not  been  able  to  leave  his  affairs  in  such  good  hands 
as  yours,  Mr.  Parchester,  and  those  of  your  friends." 

"Yes,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "and  if  he  had  known  I 
was  here  I  dare  say  he  would  have  stopped  to  breakfast, 
and  have  had  a  little  talk  with  me.  But  of  course  he  did 
not  feel  himself  called  upon  to  explain  his  comings  and 
his  goings  to  these  boys.  But  I  am  puzzled  now  as  to 
what  I  shall  do.  I  was  perfectly  willing  to  stay  here  a 
week,  or  even  a  fortnight,  and  take  care  of  the  house ;  but 
as  to  staying  on  indefinitely,  that  is  quite  another  thing, 
you  know." 

"Now,  look  here!"  exclaimed  Tom  Prouter.  "I  be- 
lieve Dunworth  would  be  dreadfully  upset  if  he  knew  you 
were  going  away  from  here." 

"And  you  would  be  dreadfully  upset,"  remarked  Miss 
Airpenny,  "if  you  thought  I  was  going  back  to  Quan- 
trill's." 

The  pupils  of  husbandry  burst  into  an  earnest  and  ap- 
preciative laugh.  Tom  Prouter  said  nothing,  but  went  to 
work  vigorously  to  eat  his  breakfast. 

"  Well,"  said  Miss  Airpenny,  "  I  shall  not  go  just  yet.  I 
am  putting  the  house  through  a  regular  course  of  clean- 
ing, and  I  shall  stay  till  that  is  finished.  Then  we  shall 
see  what  we  shall  see." 

After  breakfast  Ardis  received  a  note  form  Norma, 
stating  that  Mr.  Surrey  had  gone  back  to  Bald  Hill  late 
on  the  previous  evening,  and  she,  therefore,  determined  to 
return  to  Heatherley  immediately.  Tom  Prouter  offered 
to  drive  her  over  in  his  dog-cart  or  to  borrow  a  saddle 
and  accompany  her  on  horseback,  but  both  propositions 
she  firmly  declined.  Ardis  did  not  feel  very  pleasantly 
disposed  toward  Mr.  Prouter  this  morning.  It  was  her 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  177 

desire  to  go  away  by  herself,  but  in  any  case  she  did  not 
wish  the  company  of  the  man  who  had  hinted  that  money 
troubles  were  the  cause  of  Roger's  absence. 

When  Ardis  had  taken  leave  of  the  kind  Miss  Airpenny, 
who  greatly  disliked  to  have  her  go,  she  did  not  return  to 
Heatherley  by  the  way  she  had  come,  but  took  her  way 
through  a  lane  which  led  to  the  road  on  which  Dr.  Lester's 
house  was  situated.  This  was  not  her  most  direct  way, 
but  Ardis  had  a  reason  for  taking  it.  She  had  not  for- 
gotten that  the  boy  had  told  her  early  that  morning  that 
Mr.  Dunworth  had  returned  to  his  home  on  Dr.  Lester's 
horse,  which  had  been  left  in  the  stables.  This  proved 
that  the  doctor  knew  something  of  Roger's  movements, 
and  Ardis  determined  to  see  Dr.  Lester  before  she  went 
to  Heatherley  or  anywhere  else. 

After  passing  between  cultivated  fields,  the  lane  ran 
along  the  edge  of  a  piece  of  woodland  which  had  been 
greatly  thinned  out,  so  that  the  ground  lay  almost  as  much 
in  sunshine  as  in  shadow.  She  had  not  ridden  far  upon 
this  pleasant  roadway  when,  on  rounding  a  curve,  she  saw 
at  a  short  distance  a  tall  man  walking  toward  her. 
At  the  sight  of  him  Ardis  could  but  smile.  Here  was  Dr. 
Lester  coming  after  his  horse. 

The  doctor's  eyes  had  been  fixed  upon  the  ground,  but 
at  the  sound  of  hoofs  he  raised  his  head,  and  his  face  was 
lighted  with  a  sudden  joy.  But  he  was  surprised  as  well. 

"Miss  Ardis!"  he  exclaimed,  stepping  quickly  toward 
her,  "  how  do  you  happen  to  be  here  ?  " 

"  I  spent  last  night  with  Miss  Airpenny,  who  is  taking 
care  of  Roger  Dunworth's  house,  you  know.  I  was  de- 
tained by  a  storm.  He  was  there  in  the  night,  though 
nobody  knew  it  until  he  had  gone.  And  now,  doctor, 
please  tell  me  what  you  know  about  him?  You  do  know 
something,  don't  you?" 
12 


178  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN, 

The  doctor  looked  steadily  up  at  her  and  answered, 
"Yes." 

Without  a  word,  Ardis  released  herself  from  the  saddle 
and  stirrup  and  slipped  to  the  ground.  "  I  will  not  keep 
you  standing  while  we  talk,  doctor,"  she  said,  "  and  if  you 
will  tie  Janet,  we  will  sit  down  on  that  log." 

"You  need  not  have  troubled  yourself  to  get  down, 
Miss  Ardis,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  do  not  in  the  least  mind 
standing." 

"But  I  do  mind  your  standing,"  said  Ardis. 

The  doctor  pulled  down  an  oak  branch,  to  which  he 
tied  the  bridle  of  the  mare;  and  then  the  two  seated  them- 
selves on  a  part  of  a  trunk  of  a  tree  which  lay  by  the  road- 
side. 

"Now,"  said  Ardis,  "what  is  it?" 

The  doctor  saw  that  the  girl  was  deeply  interested.  He 
looked  away  from  her,  and  although  the  light  in  his  face 
faded  somewhat,  there  still  remained  with  him  that  air  of 
kindly  concern  which  was  always  present  when  Ardis  was. 

"  I  must  begin  at  the  beginning,"  said  he,  "  although  I 
must  admit  that  my  mind  is  more  exercised  with  the  pres- 
ent phase  of  Roger's  absence.  When  he  first  went  away 
from  home  I  was  much  troubled  because  I  did  not  believe 
that  his  business  affairs,  or  those  of  anybody  else,  had  so 
suddenly  called  him  away.  He  is  not  the  man  to  leave 
his  home  on  business  in  that  manner  and  say  nothing  to 
any  one.  Something  serious  must  have  been  the  matter 
with  him.  Now,  as  I  knew  that  something  serious  was 
the  matter  with  him " 

"What  was  it?"  asked  Ardis. 

"  He  was  in  love  with  you,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Did  he  tell  you  that?" 

"No,"  said  the  other,  "he  did  not  tell  me,  nor  was 
there  any  necessity  for  telling  me.  I  knew  it  very  well, 


AKDIS   CLAVERDEN.  179 

and  I  also  knew  that  recently  his  mind  had  been  very 
much  stirred  up  on  account  of  it.  I  did  not  know  any 
specific  reason  why  this  should  be  so,  and  when  I  went 
after  him " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  went  after  him  ?  "  interrupted 
Ardis. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  when  I  found  that  he  had  really 
gone  off  somewhere,  I  made  special  and  quiet  inquiries  at 
and  about  the  station  and  I  discovered  that  it  was  more 
than  likely  that  he  had  taken  a  northern-bound  train.  In 
that  case  I  believed  he  had  gone  to  Baltimore,  because  his 
most  particular  friend,  Sydney  Gaither,  lives  there,  and  I 
thought  it  probable  that  he  would  at  least  make  a  stop  at 
his  house.  So  I  took  a  night  train  and  went  to  Gaither's, 
and,  sure  enough,  I  found  Roger.  He  looked  badly  and 
was,  of  course,  surprised  to  see  me,  but,  on  the  whole,  I 
did  not  hesitate  to  tell  Roger  that  I  had  come  to  Balti- 
more on  his  account.  When  he  knew  this  he  frankly 
told  me  his  trouble.  As  I  expected,  it  was  all  about  you. 
Your  apparent  liking  for  Surrey,  and  your  refusal  to  listen 
to  Roger,  had  affected  him  a  good  deal ;  but  he  had  de- 
termined to  try  to  get  over  this.  It  was  his  last  meeting 
with  you  and  Mr.  Surrey — the  details  of  which  he  did  not 
give  me — which  upset  all  his  resolutions  and  nearly  drove 
him  crazy.  Then  he  went  away.  He  was  convinced  that 
he  had  lost  you,  and  he  ceased  to  care  for  anything. 

"  I  did  not  press  him  with  questions  in  regard  to  this 
last  meeting,  for  I  saw  that  he  could  scarcely  bear  to 
think  of  it,  and  he  had  said  no  more  about  it  than  that  it 
settled  everything;  but  I  told  Roger  that  I  believed,  as  I 
truly  did,  that  he  was  laboring  under  some  cruel  mistake, 
and  that  he  ought  to  go  home,  see  you,  and  assure  him- 
self with  certainty  how  matters  stood  between  you.  Know- 
ing you  as  I  do,  and  having  noticed  your  avoidance  of 


i8o  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

Mr.  Surrey  after  your  return  from  the  caves,  I  was  positive 
that  Roger  was  utterly  mistaken  in  regard  to  you  and  that 
man.  Day  after  day  I  talked  to  him,  and,  at  last,  he  be- 
gan to  take  my  view  of  the  matter,  and  yesterday  morning 
he  and  I  started  home  together. 

"  I  thought  it  very  likely  that  by  this  time  Mr.  Surrey 
had  gone  away ;  but  even  if  he  had  not,  it  was  right  that 
Roger  should  see  you  and  have  this  matter  settled.  Had 
he  found  that  his  fears  were  correct,  I  should  not  have 
blamed  him  if  he  had  thrown  up  his  farm  and  had  gone 
away,  anywhere  far  from  here." 

"Should  not  have  blamed  him?"  exclaimed  Ardis. 

" No,"  returned  the  doctor;  "he  has  told  me  how  he 
feels  toward  you.  In  everything  important  that  he  has 
done  in  life  he  has  thought  of  you.  This  is  not  a  matter 
of  days  or  months ;  it  is  a  matter  of  years.  Without  you 
this  part  of  the  world  would  be  no  place  for  him." 

The  doctor  paused.     "  What  next?  "  said  Ardis. 

"We  arrived  at  Bolton  late  in  the  afternoon,  hired  a 
carriage  at  the  station,  and  drove  to  my  house,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  and  after  supper  I  lent  him  my  horse  to  ride  over 
to  his  place.  He  was  to  send  the  horse  back,  and  I  was 
to  go  to  Bald  Hill  this  morning  and  find  out  whether  or 
not  Mr.  Surrey  was  there,  and  how  affairs  stood  generally, 
and  report  to  Roger;  after  which  he  was  to  go  to  you. 
My  real  object  in  making  this  plan  was  to  see  you  before 
Roger  came,  and  to  make  the  way  clear  for  him  if  I  could. 
But  this  morning  I  received  a  note  from  Roger,  brought 
by  a  boy  from  Bolton.  In  this  he  told  me  that  after  he 
had  left  me  he  had  changed  his  mind  and  had  determined 
to  go  to  Bald  Hill  to  see  you.  He  went  there ;  he  did  not 
see  any  of  the  family;  but  he  learned  that  you  and  Mr. 
Surrey  were  at  Heatherley.  To  this  he  added  nothing 
except  that  he  had  gone  home ;  and  had  started  from  there 


ARDIS   CLAVRRDEN.  l8l 

on  a  long  journey,  on  which  it  would  be  useless  for  any 
one  to  follow  him.  This  note  was  such  a  cool  and  dis- 
passionate one,  that  it  troubled  me  more  than  if  he  had 
raved  a  little.  He  even  said  that  he  was  sorry  that  he  had 
forgotten  to  leave  orders  that  my  horse  should  be  brought 
back  to  me!  As  soon  as  I  read  the  note  I  started  for  his 
house  and  1  am  very  glad  I  met  you." 

Ardis  said  nothing ;  she  was  looking  on  the  ground  and 
thinking.  Her  thoughts  all  merged  into  one  overpower- 
ing regret.  If  Roger  had  only  come  to  his  home  last 
evening  he  would  have  seen  her!  No  matter  where  he 
had  come  from ;  straight  from  Bolton ;  from  the  doctor's 
house ;  or  even  after  the  statement  he  had  heard  at  Bald 
Hill,  he  would  have  seen  her  and  everything  could  have 
been  said.  When  he  had  heard  that  she  and  Surrey  were 
away  together,  his  heart  must  have  been  crushed.  The 
bitter  conviction  must  have  come  upon  him  that  without 
doubt  he  had  lost  her;  that  without  doubt  she  had  de- 
ceived him. 

But  he  had  not  come  home  until  the  middle  of  the 
night ;  and  then  he  had  gone  forth  again,  seeing  nobody, 
knowing  nothing,  and  passing  within  a  few  feet  of  where 
she  was  thinking  and  dreaming  of  him !  Going  with  his 
heart  full  of  despair  upon  a  journey  where  it  was  useless 
for  any  one  to  follow  him! 

Suddenly  she  turned  toward  her  companion.  "  Dr. 
Lester,"  said  she,  "  you  must  think  a  great  deal  of  Roger 
Dunworth  to  do  so  much  for  him." 

"  I  do  think  very  much  of  him,"  he  quietly  answered, 
gazing  steadfastly  before  him  at  the  far-away  hills. 

Ardis  looked  at  him  for  a  moment.  "  Dr.  Lester,  she 
said,  "you  don't  know  what  a  friend  you  have  been!" 
And  with  a  heart  full  of  tender  thankfulness,  she  half -rose, 
leaned  toward  him,  and  kissed  him. 


1 82  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

The  tenacity  of  life  possessed  by  human  hope  is  truly 
amazing.  It  can  scarcely  be  said  that  the  hope  which 
had  been  born  of  this  man's  love  for  Ardis  had  ever  truly 
lived.  It  had  never  been  anything  but  a  half-formed 
weakling.  He  had  honestly  believed  it  dead.  But  now, 
as  he  felt  the  touch  of  those  lips,  that  hope  sprang  in  an 
instant  into  full  life  and  vigor,  and  stood  before  him  in 
exultant  majesty.  His  eyes  sparkled,  his  face  shone  as 
though  a  sudden  blaze  had  sprung  into  existence  within 
him.  But  the  next  instant  the  light  vanished  and  hope 
fell  dead  before  him,  cold,  shrivelled,  and  never  to  rise 
again.  That  kiss  had  called  it  into  life  only  to  give  it  its 
death-stroke. 

"  Good-by,  doctor,"  ea:d  Ardis,  rising;  "  I  must  go  on 
now,  and  I  am  sure  you  will  let  us  know  if  you  hear  any- 
thing more  of  Mr.  Dunworth." 

The  soul  of  Ardis  was  deeply  stirred,  but  she  could  not 
speak  of  the  disquiet  within  her.  Indeed,  she  had  not 
fully  made  plain  to  herself  its  full  force  and  meaning. 

The  doctor  arose,  untied  her  horse,  and  helped  her  to 
the  saddle.  Then  he  bade  her  good-by,  and  she  rode 
away. 

He  did  not  look  after  her,  but  slowly  walked  back  to 
the  log  and  sat  down.  Now  he  knew  himself  as  he  had 
not  known  himself  before.  That  kiss  from  Ardis  had 
shown  him  what  he  truly  was.  He  was  an  elderly  friend 
of  the  family. 

Given  to  him  thus  freely  and  spontaneously  in  gratitude 
for  what  he  had  done  for  the  man  she  loved,  it  was  the 
same  kiss,  in  its  true  meaning,  as  those  she  had  given  him 
when  a  little  girl  in  gratitude  for  a  handful  of  nuts  or  a 
cunningly  carved  toy. 

This  kiss  from  Ardis  Claverden  could  have  but  one 
significance ;  he  was  as  much  older  now  than  she  as  he 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  183 

had  been  when  she  was  a  little  girl.  If  this  fact  had  not 
before  fully  impressed  him ;  if  he  had  allowed  himself  to 
think  that  while  her  years  went  on  his  stood  still ;  the  fact 
had  impressed  her,  and  she  had  not  thought  as  he  had 
thought. 

He  rose  to  his  feet.  He  was  not  a  more  elderly  man 
than  when  he  had  sat  down  with  Ardis  upon  that  log ;  nor 
had  his  position  with  regard  to  her  changed.  But  now  a 
kiss  had  stamped  his  age  upon  him,  and  had  shown  him 
where  he  stood. 
/ .  Hejvalked  slowly  home,  forgetting  all  about  his  horse. 


1 84  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

WHEN  Ardis  reached  Heatherley  she  found  Norma 
Cranton  in  an  animated  mood.  Though  strongly 
desirous  of  knowing  what  had  happened  to  Ardis  since 
she  had  left  the  day  before,  she  was  still  more  desirous 
to  tell  what  had  happened  to  her,  and  began  immediately : 
"  I  had  a  fine  time  yesterday,"  she  said,  "  with  two  of 
your  lovers.  First  came  Mr.  Egbert  Dalrymple,  and  much 
fretted  was  he  not  to  find  you  here.  He  said  he  would 
wait  until  your  return,  and  wait  he  did,  stalking  solemnly 
up  and  down  the  parlor,  and  now  and  then  dropping  down 
upon  the  piano  stool  and  touching  off  little  bits  of  tribu- 
lation on  the  keys.  As  he  showed  plainly  that  he  had  not 
come  to  see  me,  and  as  I  was  very  busy,  I  left  him  to  him- 
self. But  as  I  was  passing  through  the  parlor  in  a  great 
hurry  with  my  key  basket  in  my  hand,  and  with  two  women 
down-stairs  who  could  do  nothing  until  I  went  back,  and 
a  man  from  Bolton  at  the  back  door  who  had  been  wait- 
ing half  an  hour  to  see  me  about  apples,  your  Mr.  Dal- 
rymple, who  was  leaning  against  the  mantel-piece  with  his 
arms  folded  and  his  eyes  fixed  upon  a  spot  in  the  carpet, 
made  last  year  by  a  popping  cinder,  stopped  me  short, 
with  a  question.  '  Miss  Cranton,'  said  he,  '  what  is  your 
opinion  regarding  the  condition  or  status  of  the  human 
soul  immediately  after  death?'  Now,  what  do  you  think 
of  such  a  man?  To  stop  a  housekeeper  at  her  very  busi- 
est time  and  ask  her  a  question  like  that!  I  looked  at  him 
for  a  moment,  and  then  I  said:  'If  we  can  get  our  souls 
into  the  proper  condition  before  death,  we  shall  have  done 


AKDIS  CLAVERDEN.  185 

all  that  can  be  expected  of  us.  What  follows  will  take 
care  of  itself.'  'So?'  said  he,  lifting  his  eyebrows.  And 
with  that  I  left  him.  And  no  sooner  had  I  got  through 
with  the  apple-man  than  up  rides  your  Mr.  Surrey.  He 
also  said  he  would  wait  until  you  came  back.  It  was 
enough  to  make  a  cat  laugh ! 

" '  There  is  another  gentleman  waiting  for  her  in  the 
parlor,'  said  I,  '  so  of  course,  his  turn  comes  first,  and  it 
may  be  a  good  while  before  you  see  her.'  He  asked  who 
the  other  gentleman  was,  and  when  I  told  him,  he  smiled, 
and  said  he  could  afford  to  wait  as  long  as  was  necessary. 
So  he  tied  his  horse,  but  he  did  not  go  into  the  parlor ; 
and  when  I  had  finished  the  quinces  I  came  out  and 
found  him  on  the  piazza.,  comfortably  smoking  a  cigar.  He 
stopped  me  with  a  question,  too,  but  it  was  no  stuff  and 
nonsense  about  souls.  You  know  I  never  did  have  any 
use  for  Mr.  Surrey,  but  I  must  say  that,  taking  him  right 
after  Mr.  Dalrymple,  he  showed  to  advantage.  I  wouldn't 
have  expected  it  of  him,  but  he  really  takes  a  good  deal 
of  interest  in  desiccated  apples  and  all  sorts  of  farm 
matters.  And  he  knows  a  good  deal,  too,  which  also  sur- 
prised me.  We  were  still  talking  together  when  Mr. 
Dalrymple  came  out.  He  nodded  to  Mr.  Surrey  as  if  his 
head  had  been  a  loose  handle  to  a  carving  fork. 

" '  I  shall  not  remain  longer,'  he  said.  And  he  bade 
me  a  stiff  good-morning.  But  when  he  was  half-way 
down  the  steps  he  suddenly  stopped  and  turned.  '  Will 
you  kindly  tell  Miss  Claverden,'  said  he,  '  that  I  shall  call 
to-morrow  morning  about  ten  o'clock  to  invite  her  to  drive 
with  me?'  And  with  this  he  departed." 

"  It  is  long  after  ten  o'clock  now,"  said  Ardis. 

"Oh!  he  has  been  and  gone,"  Norma  returned.  "He 
did  not  wait  a  minute  when  he  found  you  were  not  here. 
I  think  it  likely  he  has  gone  to  Bald  Hill.  Mr.  Surrey 


1 86  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

laughed  a  little  at  the  young  man  after  he  left  yesterday, 
and  then  he  told  me  that  he  was  of  a  different  sort,  and 
that  if  it  would  not  put  me  to  any  inconvenience  he  would 
remain  until  you  returned.  He  said  he  would  be  obliged 
to  go  North  this  morning,  and  he  did  not  wish  to  go  with- 
out taking  leave  of  you.  Of  course  I  could  not  help  his 
staying,  and  he  stayed  to  dinner.  And  I  must  say  that 
even  father,  who  does  not  like  strangers,  said  to  me  that 
he  thought  Mr.  Surrey  a  very  agreeable  gentleman. 

"  I  had  a  private  notion  that  you  had  ridden  over  to 
Bald  Hill,  and  finding  Mr.  Surrey  away  had  stayed  there 
to  dinner ;  but  I  was  beginning  to  be  worried  about  you 
when  your  note  came.  Then  I  felt  all  right.  I  told  Mr. 
Surrey  that  you  were  visiting  Miss  Airpenny,  and  that  on 
account  of  the  weather  you  would  stay  there  all  night.  I 
am  sure  if  he  had  known  how  near  you  were  he  would 
have  gone  to  you ;  but  he  must  have  taken  it  for  granted 
that  you  were  at  Quantrill's  where  he  knew  Miss  Airpenny 
lived;  and  as  that  is  nine  miles  from  here  he  could  not 
expect  to  get  there  before  bed-time,  even  if  he  knew  the 
roads.  At  any  rate  he  said  nothing  about  it,  and  he 
stayed  until  long  after  there  was  any  reason  to  suppose 
you  would  come  back;  and  I  could  see  that  he  really 
hated  to  go  away  without  seeing  you.  I  almost  pitied 
him." 

"There  was  no  reason  whatever  to  pity  him,"  said 
Ardis,  "  and  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  not  telling 
him  where  I  was.  I  want  very  much  to  go  back  to  father, 
but  I  shall  not  go  near  Bald  Hill  until  I  know  for  certain 
that  Mr.  Surrey  has  left  for  the  North." 

"  I  will  send  over  to  Bald  Hill  this  afternoon  to  find  out 
how  matters  are,"  said  Norma.  "  And  now  tell  me  if  you 
have  heard  anything  about  Roger  Dunworth." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ardis.     "  He  came  home  last  night  after 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  187 

everybody  had  gone  to  bed,  and  he  went  away  this  morn- 
ing before  anybody  was  up.  No  one  in  the  family  saw 
him,  and  though  he  left  a  note  for  Mr.  Parchester  he  did 
not  say  where  he  was  going." 

"  He  has  gone  to  stay  away/'  said  Norma,  "  because  he 
will  not  live  in  this  part  of  the  world  without  you.  I 
don't  know  whether  you  have  refused  him  or  whether  he 
has  given  up  in  despair  on  account  of  your  other  admirers, 
but  I  have  been  certain  all  along  that  it  was  on  your 
account  he  went  away." 

Norma  waited  a  few  moments  to  receive  some  sort  of 
answer  from  her  companion,  but  none  came,  and  then  she 
added:  "  Don't  you  think,  when  you  put  it  to  yourself, 
that  you  are  at  the  bottom  of  Roger  Dunworth's  trouble?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Ardis. 

At  this  moment  Ardis  was  glad  that  the  conversation 
was  ended  by  the  entrance  of  a  servant  with  a  summons 
for  Norma.  If  she  had  taken  anybody  into  her  confidence 
it  would  have  been  Norma  Cranton,  but  she  was  not  ready 
to  make  confidences. 

After  dinner  a  messenger  sent  to  Bald  Hill  by  Norma 
brought  news  that  Mr.  Surrey  had  departed  for  the  North, 
and  although  Norma  insisted  that  for  the  sake  of  appear- 
ances, if  for  nothing  else,  her  friend  should  remain  with 
her  a  little  longer,  the  sun  was  still  high  up  in  the  sky 
when  Ardis  sprang  from  the  saddle  of  her  mare  Janet  into 
the  arms  of  her  father. 


1 88  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

rPWO  weeks  had  passed  since  Ardis  Claverden's  return 
1  to  Bald  Hill.  It  was  now  the  middle  of  October. 
The  sunshine  was  yet  warm  and  cheery,  but  the  morn- 
ings and  evenings  were  growing  cool  and  frosty.  The 
house  was  lively,  for  General  Tredner  and  ex-Governor 
Upton,  old  friends  of  Major  Claverden,  were  there  on  a 
visit  of  indefinite  length.  Dr.  Lester  was  a  frequent 
member  of  this  group  of  good  fellows;  Mr.  Dalrymple 
was  an  almost  daily  visitor — sometimes  seeing  Ardis,  and 
sometimes  going  away  disappointed ;  Tom  Prouter  drove 
up  in  his  dog-cart  whenever  his  lacteal  duties  gave  him 
an  excuse  to  come  this  way;  and  even  Parchester,  Skitt, 
and  Cruppledean  occasionally  smoked  a  pipe  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  master  of  Bald  Hill. 

Twice  Norma  Cranton  spent  a  few  hours  with  Ardis,  but 
she  found  her  very  quiet  and  uncommunicative;  and 
knowing  her  friend  to  be  one  who  chafed  under  question- 
ing, she  prudently  avoided  making  inquiries  in  regard  to 
the  Dunworth  affair,  feeling  sure  that  when  Ardis  saw  fit 
to  make  confidences  she  would  be  the  one  to  whom  they 
would  be  made.  It  was  not  a  lack  of  desire  of  knowledge 
of  such  matters  that  enabled  Norma  to  act  thus  prudently. 
The  fact  was  that  in  her  own  mind  she  had  already  settled 
the  whole  matter.  Disappointed  love  had  driven  Roger 
Dunworth  away.  If  Ardis  should  ever  give  him  encour- 
agement to  do  so  he  would  come  back  and  marry  her.  If 
this  should  not  happen,  he  would  probably  give  up  his 
farm  to  his  younger  brother  Henry,  who  was  now  living 
in  Kentucky,  and  establish  himself  on  a  cattle  ranch  in 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  189 

Texas.  If  she  knew  anything  of  Dimworth  blood,  it  would 
never  permit  Roger  to  settle  himself  for  life  in  this  neigh- 
borhood as  a  disappointed  bachelor,  or  as  the  husband  of 
any  woman  but  the  one  whom,  as  everybody  knew,  he 
had  loved  for  so  many  years. 

It  was  not  so  easy  for  Ardis  to  bring  her  mind  to  a  sat- 
isfactory conclusion  in  regard  to  this  affair,  in  which  she 
was  so  deeply  concerned.  She  went  to  work  in  her  studio, 
but  art  just  now  did  not  interest  her,  and  the  crackling 
wood  fire  which  Uncle  Shad  would  build  up  for  her  did 
not  seem  to  prevent  her  fingers  from  getting  cold  and  stiff. 
There  were  plenty  of  people  to  talk  ti>,  but  their  talk  was 
not  of  the  kind  to  which  she  cared  to  listen.  So  she 
painted  a  little,  conversed  a  little,  and  thought  much. 

Her  thoughts  were  nearly  always  upon  two  persons ; 
Roger  Dunworth  and  herself.  With  Roger  she  was  not 
well  satisfied.  It  was  true  that  he  loved  her ;  there  could 
be  no  doubt  of  that ;  but  he  had  not  treated  her  well. 
He  had  no  right  to  go  away  and  keep  away,  carrying  with 
him  such  a  dreadful  mistake  concerning  Mr.  Surrey  and 
herself.  He  should  have  come  to  her  boldly;  he  should 
not  have  been  willing  to  trust  anything  but  her  own  words 
in  regard  to  such  a  thing  as  this.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
perhaps  it  was  too  much  to  expect  of  any  man  to  doubt 
his  own  conclusions  after  such  apparent  evidence  had 
come  to  him  as  had  come  to  Roger.  It  was  very  hard  for 
her  to  decide  whether  or  not  his  conduct  was  to  be  justified. 

But  in  regard  to  herself,  she  was  able  to  come  to  a  de- 
cision, and  before  the  middle  of  the  month  she  determined 
that  she  ought  honestly  and  candidly  to  acknowledge  to 
herself  that  she  was  in  love  with  Roger  Dunworth.  This 
conclusion  was  not  entirely  pleasing  to  her,  and  at  first 
she  felt  inclined  to  rebel  against  it ;  but  she  saw  that  fair 
play  to  herself  demanded  that  she  should  admit  the  fact. 


190  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Were  this  not  so,  it  would  not  trouble  her  by  night  and 
by  day  to  think  of  the  mistake  under  which  Roger  had 
gone  away;  were  it  not  so,  her  mind  would  not  be  filled 
with  doubts  as  to  his  coming  back  or  as  to  what  he  might 
think  in  such  and  such  a  case.  She  knew  that  it  was  not 
only  an  old  friend  and  neighbor  who  had  gone  away;  she 
knew  it  was  not  only  her  lover  who  had  gone  away ;  she 
knew  it  was  the  man  she  loved. 

When  Ardis  became  fully  aware  of  the  position  in  which 
she  stood  her  spirits  rose.  She  was  a  girl  to  whom  action 
was  true  life.  But  the  fact  that  the  nature  of  the  case 
and  its  peculiar  circumstances  debarred  her  from  present 
action  did  not  in  the  least  discourage  her.  She  felt  that 
she  was  ready  to  act  when  the  time  came,  and  this  feeling 
gave  courage  to  her  spirits  and  brightness  to  her  eyes,  but 
the  reason  for  this  feeling  went  deep  down  into  her  soul 
and  made  a  new  being  of  her. 

That  Ardis  had  become  a  different  woman  since  their 
arrival  at  Bald  Hill  did  not  dawn  upon  the  minds  of  the 
general  and  the  ex-governor;  Egbert  Dalrymple,  when 
he  had  the  pleasure  of  spending  a  half-hour  with  her, 
noticed  no  change  in  her;  Tom  Prouter  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  she  was  growing  handsomer  every  day,  but 
he  had  thought  that  ever  since  he  had  known  her;  and 
when  her  father  said  to  himself  as  he  looked  at  her  that 
there  never  was  such  a  grand  combination  as  that  of  Ardis 
and  Claverden  blood,  he  was  aware  of  no  reason  why  he 
should  think  so  more  frequently  than  ever  before.  It 
was  only  Dr.  Lester  who  knew. 

An  avalanche  upon  the  grave  of  a  dead  thing  cannot 
make  that  thing  more  dead.  The  grave  in  which  lay  the 
dead  hopes  of  this  quiet  gentleman  was  unmarked  by 
mound  or  stone,  and  it  was  of  slight  import  how  deeply 
it  was  covered  out  of  sight. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  191 

Toward  the  end  of  October,  Dr.  Lester  came  one  day 
to  Bald  Hill,  and  taking  Ardis  aside,  told  her  that  he  had 
had  a  letter  from  Roger  Dunworth. 

"  It  is  not  much  of  a  letter,"  he  said,  "  and  gives  no  clue 
to  his  present  whereabouts.  It  was  written  more  than  a 
week  ago  at  Hickory  Hollow,  a  village  in  Northern 
Georgia,  and  merely  asks  me  to  attend  to  some  business 
for  him.  I  think  he  is  making  an  equestrian  excursion 
through  that  country,  in  which  I  know  he  is  interested. 
If  I  were  you,"  added  the  doctor,  speaking  very  gently, 
"  I  would  not  allow  myself  anxiety  about  Roger.  I  should 
not  be  surprised  if  he  were  to  return  home  twenty  pounds 
heavier  than  when  he  left  us.  A  tall  fellow,  such  as  he 
is,  can  well  stand  that." 

"  So  you  think  I  need  not  be  worried  about  him?  "  she 
said. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Dr.  Lester.  "  There  is  no  reason  to 
doubt  that  he  is  in  good  health,  and  I  believe  that  when 
travel  through  an  interesting  country  has  restored  his  mind 
to  something  of  its  normal  tone  he  will  return,  resolved, 
if  necessary,  to  bear  the  worst.  Once  here,  I  have  no  fear 
but  that  everything  will  be  right." 

There  came  a  slight  smile  upon  the  face  of  Ardis. 
"  You  think  everything  will  be  right?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor, "  I  think  everything  will  be  right." 

The  doctor  stepped  to  the  window.  Then  he  came 
back  and  said:  "  I  shall  do  my  best  to  get  a  letter  to  him. 
I  shall  address  him  at  Hickory  Hollow,  and  request  that 
the  letter  be  forwarded  from  place  to  place.  This  may 
avail  nothing,  but  I  shall  try  it." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ardis.     And  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

"What!"  exclaimed  Major  Claverden,  as  he  entered 
the  room,  "  you  don't  mean,  doctor,  that  you  are  taking 
leave  of  us  at  this  time  of  day !  You  must  stay  to  dinner  1 " 


192  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN; 

Dr.  Lester  had  intended  to  take  dinner  at  Bald  Hill, 
to  which  hospitable  house  he  was  always  privileged  to 
invite  himself.  But  as  he  believed  that  Miss  Ardis  would 
not  wish  her  father  to  suppose  that  the  hand-shaking  be- 
tween them  meant  any  more  than  leave  taking,  he  said 
that  he  must  go,  having  letters  to  write  which  must  be 
dispatched  that  afternoon. 

As  he  jogged  homeward  on  his  cream-colored  horse, 
Dr.  Lester's  mind  was  not  in  that  condition  of  freedom 
from  anxiety  which  he  had  endeavored  to  produce  in  Ardis. 
He  was  greatly  worried  about  Roger  Dunworth.  He 
believed  all  that  he  had  told  Ardis,  but  he  had  not  seen 
fit  to  tell  her  that  he  feared  that  it  would  be  a  long  time 
before  the  young  man  would  be  content  to  return  home 
and  face  the  worst.  The  tone  of  the  letter  he  had  re- 
ceived— which  he  had  not  taken  to  Bald  Hill — impressed 
upon  him  the  fact  that  Roger  had  gone  away  to  stay  for 
a  long  time.  Had  the  letter  been  of  a  more  emotional 
character  the  doctor  could  have  hoped ;  but  its  practical 
nature  indicated  a  fixed  purpose  which  troubled  him. 

"Dr.  Lester  was  a  man  eminently  adapted  to  attend  to 
other  people's  business,  and  he  found  no  difficulty  in 
allaying  the  apprehensions  of  Mr.  Dunworth's  neighbors 
in  regard  to  his  absence.  Having  heard  from  him  on 
business,  he  spoke  as  his  agent,  and  however  much  people 
might  conjecture  and  criticise  when  they  spoke  of  Dun- 
worth's  absence,  they  saw  no  reason  for  anxiety. 

As  the  doctor  was  sitting  writing  that  afternoon,  with 
his  table  drawn  near  to  a  fire  of  remarkably  crooked  sticks, 
Bonetti  came  in. 

"  Evenin',  doctor,"  said  the  visitor,  walking  up  to  the 
fire  and  spreading  his  hands  over  it,  for  the  day  was  cloudy 
and  the  outside  air  cool.  "Are  you  writing  to  Miss 
Ardis?" 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  193 

The  doctor  put  down  his  pen  and  arose  from  the  table. 
He  stepped  to  the  mantel-piece,  took  from  it  a  short 
brier-wood  pipe,  and  proceeded  to  fill  it  from  a  tobacco- 
jar  near  by.  "  Bonnet,"  said  he,  as  he  pressed  the  tobacco 
into  the  bowl  with  his  forefinger,  "  the  time  has  come  to 
drop  that." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  exclaimed  Bonetti,  his  face 
lighting  with  interest,  "that  you  have  spoken  to  her?  " 

"  Drop  it!  "  said  the  doctor. 

"No  more  supposin's?"  asked  the  other.  "No  more 
lookin'  at  it  in  this  way  and  in  t'other  way?  " 

"  Drop  it!  "  said  the  doctor. 

"Well,  upon  my  word!"  said  Bonetti.  "I  never  did 
think  that  you,  yourself,  would  be  able  to  drop  it ! " 

"  It  is  to  be  dropped,"  said  the  doctor,  "  individually 
and  collectively.  There  is  another  pipe  there." 

Bonetti  took  the  pipe  and  proceeded  to  fill  it.  "  Of 
course  I'll  drop  it,  if  you  say  so,"  said  he,  "but  it's  like 
rootin'  up  a  black  gum  saplin' ;  it's  hard  to  do.  That's 
a  thing  you  and  me  has  talked  about  for  a  long  time, 
doctor." 

"And  which  is  to  be  dropped  now,"  said  Dr.  Lester,  as 
he  puffed  gently  at  his  pipe. 

Bonetti  also  stood  and  puffed.  A  blank  had  suddenly 
come  into  his  life.  No  more  could  he  join  with  his  fellow- 
philosophizer  in  suppositions  regarding  what  might  happen 
to  Dr.  Lester,  if  Miss  Ardis  should  do  this  or  that.  No 
longer  could  he  coolly  study  the  phases  of  this  peculiar 
attachment.  Something  had  happened,  and  the  subject 
must  be  dropped.  So  far  as  words  were  concerned, 
Bonetti  dropped  it ;  but  for  days  his  mind  was  filled  with 
conjectures  as  to  the  thing  which  had  happened.  But 
although  he  was  an  adept  at  conjecturing,  he  never  con- 
jectured what  a  kiss  had  done  for  Dr.  Lester. 


1 94  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

IT  was  at  the  end  of  the  last  week  in  October  that  Mr. 
Egbert  Dalrymple  came  riding  down  the  road  which 
passed  the  Bald  Hill  gate  at  the  same  time  that  Tom 
Prouter  came  driving  up  the  road  in  his  dog-cart.  The 
young  Englishman  saw  the  horseman  from  afar,  and  feel- 
ing sure  that  he  intended  to  turn  in  to  Bald  Hill,  Prouter 
whipped  up  and  got  first  to  the  gate.  This  was  open, 
and  he  rattled  triumphantly  up  the  lane.  He  knew  who 
it  was  that  Dalrymple  was  coming  to  see ;  and  although  he 
himself  had  come  there  to  consult  the  major  in  regard  to 
the  wintering  of  cows,  he  resolved  to  be  first  at  the  house. 
He  bounced  from  his  dog-cart  and  hurried  up  the  steps ; 
but  his  knock  was  not  immediately  answered,  and  by  the 
time  the  door  was  opened  Egbert  Dalrymple  stood  near 
him. 

Prouter  did  not  take  the  time  to  salute  the  other,  but 
immediately  inquired  of  the  servant  if  Miss  Claverden 
was  at  home.  Cows  and  the  major  had  passed  out  of  his 
mind. 

The  servant  replied  that  the  lady  was  not  at  home ;  and 
at  this  moment  Major  Claverden  came  out  of  the  library, 
having  overheard  the  colloquy. 

"  Walk  in,  gentlemen !  walk  in !  "  he  said,  shaking  hands 
with  each  of  them.  And  he  ushered  them  into  the  spacious 
room  where  the  general  was  seated  in  an  easy-chair  re- 
freshing himself  after  a  morning  walk  over  the  farm. 

Egbert  Dalrymple  bowed  to  the  gentleman,  to  whom  he 
was  introduced;  but  he  did  not  sit  down.  "I  under- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  195 

stand,"  he  said  to  the  major,  "that  your  daughter  is  not 
at  home.  May  I  ask  when  she  may  be  expected  to  re- 
turn?" 

"I  wish  I  knew!  I  wish  I  knew!  "  said  the  major,  rub- 
bing his  hands,  and  smiling  good-humoredly.  "  It  would 
take  a  prophet  to  tell  us  that.  She  went  yesterday  to 
New  York  in  company  with  Governor  Upton,  to  visit 
some  friends  there ;  and  when  Bald  Hill  will  see  her  again, 
I  am  sure  I  do  not  know." 

Mr.  Dalrymple  stepped  back.  His  brow  contracted, 
his  face  darkened.  "  So !  "  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  beg  you  will  take  a  seat,  sir,"  said  the  major,  who 
would  not  sit  down  while  a  guest  was  standing. 

Mr.  Dalrymple  paid  no  attention  to  his  invitation. 

"  For  several  years,"  continued  the  major,  "  my  daughter 
has  spent  part  of  the  winter  either  in  Washington  or  in 
New  York.  It  is  too  much  to  expect  of  one  of  her  age 
and  tastes  to  be  satisfied  to  spend  the  season  of  bad 
weather  shut  up  here  in  the  country,  with  no  one  but  us 
old  fellows — or  even  you  young  fellows — for  company. 
But  I  always  expect  to  have  her  here  for  Christmas." 

"And  like  a  dutiful  daughter,  sir,"  said  the  general, 
"I  presume  she  is  always  here?  " 

"Oh,  yes,"  was  the  reply.  "We  generally  get  as 
many  young  people  here  as  possible  for  the  holidays,  and 
we  have  a  jolly  time!  " 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that,  sir,"  said  the  deep- 
voiced  general,  with  another  sip  at  his  glass. 

Mr.  Dalrymple  now  took  two  steps  forward,  and  stood, 
his  right  leg  slightly  advanced,  his  left  hand  on  the  back 
of  a  chair,  his  right  hand  thrust  into  the  breast  of  his 
buttoned  coat,  and  upon  his  countenance  a  sombre  hue 
such  as  sometimes  comes  over  the  sky  just  before  the 
storm  wind  has  determined  in  what  direction  it  will  sweep 


196  ARDIS   CLAVRRDEN. 

everything  before  it.  "  Sir,"  said  he,  in  a  tone  of  quiet 
incision  like  the  first  premonitory  whistle  from  the  north, 
"  will  you  kindly  give  me  Miss  Claverden's  address  in  New 
York?" 

The  major  could  not  repress  a  short  laugh.  "Oho!  " 
he  said.  "That  sort  of  business  is  entirely  out  of  my 
bailiwick.  When  my  daughter  wishes  any  one  to  have  her 
address  she  gives  it — I  never  do.  The  augmentation  of 
the  correspondence  of  a  young  lady  is  a  very  serious  thing, 
sir.  And  now  I  wish  you  would  take  a  seat  and  have  a 
glass  of  our  morning  toddy.  It  is  very  gentle,  I  can 
assure  you." 

Mr.  Dalrymple  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 
"So!"  he  ejaculated.  Then  with  a  few  long,  graceful, 
side-long  steps  he  reached  the  door,  where,  turning,  he 
made  a  low  bow,  which  included  all  the  company.  Then 
he  rapidly  left  the  house.  On  the  lawn  he  found  his  horse, 
which  he  had  left  to  its  own  control,  quietly  grazing,  with 
a  little  negro  boy  holding  the  bridle.  Advancing  to  the 
side  of  the  animal,  he  stood  for  a  moment  gazing  upon  the 
ground.  Then  suddenly  extending  his  right  arm  upward 
into  the  air,  he  exclaimed:  "So!"  And,  mounting,  he 
rode  away. 

The  negro  boy  stood  for  a  moment  in  astonishment. 
Then  he  extended  his  right  arm,  his  torn  and  dirty  shirt 
sleeve  fluttering  from  his  elbow,  and  exclaimed:  "  Jist  so! 
Nex'  time  I  hole  your  hoss,  mister,  I  reckon  you'll  give 
me  a  copper  fust."  . 

Egbert  Dalrymple  had  come  to  Bald  Hill  that  morning 
with  a  purpose.  It  was  a  purpose  born  of  a  sudden  in- 
spiration. It  had  come  upon  him  like  a  flash  that  this 
was  the  day,  this  the  hour,  to  unveil  before  the  eyes  of 
Ardis  Claverden  that  peerless ,  creation  of  passionate 
adoration  which  had  grown  up  within  him.  Fate  had 


ARD1S   CLAVERDEN.  197 

postponed  the  ceremony.  But  he  snapped  his  fingers  at 
Fate.  In  his  soul  the  roar  of  the  storm  wind  had  already 
begun. 

Tom  Prouter  had  also  come  to  Bald  Hill  with  a  pur- 
pose. It  had  been  shadowy  and  undefined,  with  agricul- 
tural sticks  and  straws  showing  here  and  there,  but  the 
moment  he  had  seen  Egbert  Dalrymple  coming  down  the 
road,  this  vague  purpose  had  crystallized  into  a  firm  re- 
solve to  reach  Bald  Hill  before  the  other  fellow  got  there, 
and  to  be  the  first  to  see  Miss  Claverden.  Of  what  he 
should  say  to  her  when  he  saw  her  he  had  had  no  thought. 
If  he  unveiled  anything  it  would  probably  be  the  difficul- 
ties surrounding  his  milk  route.  But  he  was  bound  to  get 
there  before  Dalrymple. 

When  he  first  entered  the  library  Prouter  had  taken  a 
seat  and  a  proffered  glass  of  toddy.  And  now,  although 
disappointed  that  Miss  Claverden  was  away,  it  comforted 
him  to  think  that  the  Dalrymple  dude  was  no  better  off 
than  he  was,  and  he  resigned  himself  to  the  pleasure  of 
his  surroundings,  and  accepted  the  major's  invitation  to 
stay  to  dinner. 

Ardis'  determination  to  go  to  New  York  had  been 
arrived  at  rather  suddenly.  After  Dr.  Lester's  latest 
communication  regarding  Roger  Dunworth  she  had  felt  a 
desire  to  leave  Bald  Hill  for  a  time.  Generally  she  much 
enjoyed  autumn  in  the  country,  but  the  season  seemed  a 
different  one  this  year.  Nature  did  not  interest  her.  If 
Roger  were  really  travelling  about  an  interesting  country 
and  endeavoring  to  get  his  mind  into  a  normal  state,  she 
would  go  to  some  place  which  would  interest  her  and  get 
her  mind  into  a  normal  state.  If  she  were  away  from 
Bald  Hill  this  too-passionate  young  man  might  sooner  re- 
turn to  his  home,  and  at  all  events  she  preferred  to  be 
away  when  he  came  back. 


198  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

For  years  she  had  had  a  standing  invitation  from  two 
friends  in  New  York  to  make  them  a  long  visit ;  but 
social  demands  upon  her  time  when  in  New  York  had 
never  allowed  her  to  stay  with  these  friends.  Now  she 
determined  to  go  to  them. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  were  artists.  With  them  Ardis 
knew  she  could  live  a  life  which  would  interest  her.  Her 
decision  to  visit  these  friends  was  made  promptly  enough, 
but  she  would  not  have  acted  upon  it  so  soon  had  not  the 
ex-governor  found  it  necessary  to  make  a  trip  to  New 
York,  and  the  opportunity  of  his  escort  was  a  very  desir- 
able one.  She  wrote  to  her  friends  that  she  would  come 
to  them  unless  she  received  a  telegram  that  it  would  not 
be  convenient ;  and  when  the  ex-governor  was  ready  to 
start,  she  was  ready  also. 

She  did  not  do  much  in  the  way  of  leave-taking.  She 
galloped  over  to  Heatherley,  and  in  the  course  of  her  half- 
hour  conversation  with  Norma  the  latter  bluntly  asked 
her:  "And  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  Roger  Dun- 
worth?" 

Ardis  smiled.  "  When  he  comes  back,"  she  said,  "  and 
I  come  back " 

"You  will  give  him  a  good  scolding."  struck  in  Norma, 
"  and  then  marry  him." 

"  It  is  such  a  comfort,"  said  Ardis,  "  to  have  people 
answer  their  own  questions!  And  now,  good-by." 

Dr.  Lester  was  at  the  house  the  evening  before  Ardis 
left  for  the  North,  and  she  found  an  opportunity  to  say  to 
him  that  she  hoped  he  would  write  to  her  when  he  heard 
from  Roger  Dunworth.  The  doctor  declared  that  he 
would  most  certainly  write  whenever  he  heard  anything, 
and  hoped  he  might  always  write  good  news. 

"  You  must  remember,  doctor,  you  are  the  only  one  who 
knows  that  I  desire  to  hear  from  Roger." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  199 

The  doctor  assured  her  that  he  remembered,  and  that 
he  was  very  proud  and  glad  that  both  she  and  Roger  had 
trusted  in  him  as  they  had  done. 

"You  are  such  a  true  friend,"  said  Ardis,  "that  neither 
of  us  could  help  trusting  you." 

The  expression  "neither  of  us"  came  upon  the  doctor 
with  a  little  shock,  but  the  effect  was  only  momentary. 
For  some  years  he  had  considered  a  union  between  Ardis 
Claverden  and  Roger  Dunworth  as  an  event  which  in  all 
probability  would  occur,  and  which  would  be  satisfac- 
tory in  the  highest  degree  to  the  young  people  and  to  all 
their  friends.  But  events  which  we  expect  have  often  an 
unexpected  effect  upon  us  when  they  happen. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Major  Claverden  to  his  daughter 
the  next  morning,  as  she  stood  before  him  in  her  travelling 
suit,  "  I  hope  you  may  thoroughly  enjoy  yourself  with 
your  friends  and  your  art ;  but  you  must  not  let  any  of 
those  young  fellows  of  the  North  take  you  away  from  me. 
You  know  that  I  have  the  strongest  reliance  on  your 
judgment  in  regard  to  such  things,  but  when  I  see  before 
me  even  the  dimmest  vision  of  the  son-in-law  taken  from 
a  land  of  strangers  I  must  have  a  word  to  say  about  it." 

"  Father,"  said  Ardis,  "  if  you  want  to  be  comfortable 
in  your  mind,  please  keep  on  trusting  me  in  this  matter." 
Then  she  looked  up  at  the  clock.  "There  are  seven 
minutes  yet,"  she  said,  "  before  we  need  start,  and  in  that 
time  I  want  to  put  a  question  to  you.  Supposing  I  were 
to  ask  you  to  choose  a  husband  for  me :  do  you  know  of 
any  one  whom  you  would  be  willing  to  recommend?  " 

"Husbands  be  hanged!"  said  the  major.  "I  don't 
want  you  to  be  thinking  of  them!  But  yet,  I  suppose  the 
thing  can't  be  helped.  Well,  then,  if  you  were  to  put  the 
matter  into  my  hands,  I  should  say  without  any  hesitation 
whatever:  *  Here  is  Roger  Dunworth,  take  him,  your  old 


200  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

play-fellow,  your  friend  and  your  neighbor,  the  son  of  my 
old  play-fellow,  my  friend  and  my  neighbor.  Nothing 
could  be  better  than  that  for  him,  for  you,  and  for  me.' 
Now  I  have  squarely  answered  your  question,  have  I  not?  " 

"  Nothing  could  be  squarer,"  said  Ardis,  "  and  here  is 
Governor  Upton,  promptly  on  time." 

"  Good-by,  Bald  Hill,"  cried  Ardis  a  few  minutes  after- 
ward, as  she  waved  her  hand  from  the  family  carriage,  in 
which  she  and  the  ex-governor,  with  her  father  and  the 
general  to  see  them  off,  were  being  whirled  away  to  town. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  2oi 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

IT  has  been  said  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  were 
artists;  and  it  may  be  added  that  they  were  poor 
artists.  It  must  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  this  re- 
mark is  intended  to  indicate  a  want  of  artistic  merit  in 
the  Chiverleys;  it  applies  principally  to  their  lack  of 
money,  and  also,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  their  want  of 
merit.  But  in  this  sense  their  friends  agreed  that  the  re- 
mark should  be  made  in  much  gentleness  and  charity,  and 
not  before  everybody.  The  Chiverleys  were  most  excel- 
lent and  lovable  people ;  and  although  it  was  easy  enough 
to  see  that  with  more  artistic  merit  they  would  have  had 
more  money,  their  friends,  none  of  whom  were  picture 
buyers,  did  not  allow  this  fact  to  interfere  in  the  least  with 
the  high  estimation  in  which  they  held  these  two  good 
people. 

The  trouble  with  Harry  Chiverley  was  that  he  had 
nothing  in  himself  which  he  could  put  into  his  work.  He 
could  copy  what  he  could  see,  but  if  he  could  not  see 
what  he  wanted  to  paint,  he  had  no  mental  power  which 
would  bring  that  thing  before  him,  or  to  transform  what 
he  saw  into  what  it  ought  to  be.  He  painted  industriously, 
but  as  he  himself  sometimes  admitted,  his  pictures  were 
as  hard  to  look  upon  as  they  were  to  sell. 

"What  that  painting  wants,"  his  wife  would  say,  "is 
vim,  snap,  spirit,  rattle,  clatter,  go !  " 

"  It  is  very  likely^  you  are  right,"  Mr.  Chiverley  would 
say,  "  and  we  must  see  if  we  cannot  put  some  of  those 
things  into  the  next  picture."  And  to  work  he  would  go 


202  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

at  the  next  picture,  which  would  be  sure  to  turn  out  very 
much  the  same  thing  as  the  one  painted  before  it. 

The  trouble  with  Mrs.  Chiverley  was  that  she  did  not 
know  how  to  paint.  With  her  there  was  no  lack  of  artistic 
imagination.  Her  brain  was  full  of  pictures,  which,  if 
they  could  have  been  transferred  to  the  brain  of  her  hus- 
band, who  did  know  how  to  paint,  would  have  brought 
fame  and  fortune.  At  one  end  of  her  brush  was  artistic 
talent,  almost  genius ;  at  the  other  was  a  pigment  mixed 
with  oil.  But  the  one  never  ran  down  to  the  other.  The 
handle  of  the  brush  was  a  non-conductor. 

Harry  Chiverley  had  been  a  young  man  for  a  long  time, 
and  he  was  now  beginning  to  be  a  young  middle-aged 
man,  but  there  was  no  sign  of  even  the  very  earliest 
middle-age  in  that  charming  woman,  his  wife.  He  had  a 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  principles  and  methods  of  art, 
and  was  an  excellent  teacher.  It  was  by  his  scholars  that 
they  lived.  But  he  had  plenty  of  time  to  paint,  and  worked 
indefatigably  at  his  easel.  Sometimes  a  picture  was  dis- 
posed of,  but  this  did  not  happen  often,  and  was  always 
the  occasion  of  a  special  Thanksgiving  Day.  If  he  had 
painted  better  he  would  have  had  more  scholars  and  less 
time  to  paint,  but  for  a  good  many  years  he  had  shown  no 
sign  of  improvement  except  in  manual  and  technical  skill. 
"  Vim,  rattle,  snap,  go,"  never  came. 

Mr.  Chiverley  and  his  wife  had  passed  two  summers 
at  Bolton,  where  Ardis  had  been  one  of  their  pupils.  Of 
course  they  had  experienced  the  extended  hospitality  of 
Bald  Hill  and  well  knew  the  genial  character  of  the  major. 
But  this  year  the  Chiverleys  had  not  been  in  the  country 
at  all.  The  winter  had  been  a  hard  one  with  them.  Mr. 
Chiverley  had  painted  a  great  deal  and  taught  but  little ; 
with  him  the  scholar  crop  had  been  a  short  one.  As  the 
spring  came  on  their  affairs  did  not  improve ;  and  it  be- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


203 


came  plain  enough  to  both  of  them  that  they  could  not 
retain  their  studio,  and  also  go  into  the  country. 

"  In  this  case,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  we  can  have  no 
difficulty  in  deciding  what  to  do.  The  studio  is  a  neces- 
sity, the  country  is  a  luxury." 

"Not  altogether,  my  dear,"  said  her  husband,  "for  it  is 
in  the  country  that  I  make  most  of  my  studies." 

"  Still  I  am  inclined  to  think  it  is  a  luxury,"  she  said. 

The  Chiverleys  were  very  fond  of  their  studio.  Like 
many  other  studios,  it  was  a  large  room  in  the  upper  part 
of  a  great  building.  It  had  an  excellent  north  window. 
If  Harry  Chiverley  gave  up  that  north  window  he  did  not 
know  where  he  would  ever  get  another  like  it.  Opening 
from  this  room  was  a  small  one  in  which  they  slept,  and 
there  was  also  a  dark  room  in  which  they  cooked  and  kept 
their  stores,  their  trunks,  and  all  their  rubbish.  They  ate 
in  one  corner  of  their  studio,  and  in  another  corner  which 
had  been  screened  off  to  serve  for  a  model-room,  but 
which  had  seldom  been  used  for  that  purpose,  was  occa- 
sionally made  to  serve  for  a  guest-chamber. 

The  studio  was  not  furnished  with  the  tapestries,  the 
bric-a-brac,  the  armor,  and  the  various  artistic  adornments 
which  are  usually  found  in  studios.  The  walls  were  pretty 
well  covered  with  Mr.  Chiverley's  pictures,  without  frames, 
and  there  were  some  hangings  and  pieces  of  furniture 
which  did  not  cost  much  and  looked  well.  But  against 
the  wall,  opposite  the  north  window,  stood  a  possession  of 
which  they  were  justly  proud.  This  was  a  tall,  antique 
clock  which  some  years  before  Mr.  Chiverley  had  found 
in  a  highly  dilapidated  condition  in  a  bric-a-brac  shop,  and 
had  bought  for  a  moderate  sum.  He  was  in  many  ways 
an  ingenious  and  dexterous  man,  and  with  his  own  hands 
he  put  the  clock  into  excellent  condition.  He  cleaned 
and  oiled  the  works,  hung  the  weights  with  new  cords,  and 


204  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

made  it  able  to  tick  out  time  as  steadfastly  as  in  the  days 
of  its  youth.  All  damages  to  the  massive  wooden  case 
were  carefully  repaired ;  the  brass-work  was  cleaned  and 
polished,  and  for  days  upon  days  he  and  his  wife  labored 
with  enthusiasm  upon  the  tall  structure,  scraping,  varnish- 
ing, and  polishing,  bringing  out  the  grain  of  the  wood  and 
restoring  the  tone  and  color,  until  the  clock  stood  up 
proudly  like  an  ancient  piece  of  furniture  in  perfect  pre- 
servation, with  color  enriched  and  mellowed  by  every  hour 
whose  passage  it  had  chroniced,  and  not  sleek  and  shining  as 
if  it  had  been  furbished  at  the  shop  of  a  furniture  dealer. 

It  was  not  only  a  clock  which  was  good  to  look  upon, 
but  it  was  one  which  could  be  depended  upon.  By  daily 
comparison  between  it  and  a  chronometer  in  a  watch- 
maker's window  below,  Mr.  Chiverley  regulated  it  into  a 
condition  of  truthfulness  where  it  had  but  few  rivals  among 
its  antique  brethren.  It  had  not  been  long  after  the  clock 
had  been  set  going  that  one  night  when  they  had  gone  to 
bed,  and  the  lights  were  out,  and  the  clock  had  struck  the 
hour,  Harry  Chiverley  said  to  his  wife  as  the  deep,  delib- 
erate tones  came  in  to  them  from  the  shadows  of  the 
studio :  "  Doesn't  it  make  you  happy  to  think  we  have  a 
clock  like  that?  He  is  like  a  third  member  of  the  family; 
just  as  much  alive  as  either  of  us ;  a  true  friend,  who  stays 
awake  all  night,  telling  us  the  hour  and  the  half-hour, 
whether  we  are  asleep,  or  not ;  and  ready  even  then  to 
inform  us  about  the  tides  and  the  moon  if  we  choose  to 
light  a  candle  and  go  look  at  him." 

"  Never  in  my  life,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  have  I  had 
a  desire  to  know  about  the  tides,  or  the  moon  either, 
strong  enough  to  make  me  get  out  of  my  bed  and  look  at 
the  clock.  But  is  is  wonderfully  companionable  to  have 
him  speak  to  us  when  we  are  lying  awake  in  the  darkness 
of  the  night." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


205 


"  Or  at  any  other  time,"  said  her  husband.  "  I  think  it 
is  delightful  for  him  to  tell  us  the  time  to  stop  work,  and 
to  get  ready  for  luncheon  or  dinner.  Indeed,  I  truly  be- 
lieve," he  added,  "  that  if  there  should  happen  to  be  no 
luncheon  or  dinner  for  us,  it  would  be  a  compensation  to 
have  him  tell  us  that  the  time  for  the  meal  had  come.  It 
would  make  us  feel  better  to  know  that  he  had  done  his 
part  and  was  all  right,  no  matter  what  else  had  hap- 
pened." 

"  I  think  it  would  be  quite  the  other  way,"  said  Mrs. 
Chiverley;  "but  you  must  not  imagine  I  intend  to  say  a 
single  word  against  the  clock." 

Early  in  the  summer  in  which  our  story  opens  it  hap- 
pened that  the  clock  summoned  the  Chiverleys  three  times 
a  day  to  meals  that  were  like  breakfasts  without  forks. 
After  that  meals  became  even  more  simple ;  and,  later,  it 
began  to  be  doubtful  in  Mrs.  Chiverley's  mind  whether  or 
not  the  clock,  if  it  had  a  conscience-wheel  anywhere 
among  its  works,  ought  to  strike  at  all  at  meal-times. 

This  state  of  affairs  had  continued  for  some  weeks, 
when  one  day  a  visitor  came  into  the  studio  in  search  of 
water-colors.  He  was  a  gentleman  who  had  a  good 
knowledge  of  art,  and  but  little  money.  He  wanted  some- 
thing bright,  effective,  and  cheap ;  and  he  had  been  going 
from  studio  to  studio  exciting  budding  hopes  in  the  hearts 
of  poor  artists,  and  then  frost-biting  them  by  leaving  and 
buying  nothing. 

Mr.  Chiverley,  with  a  cheerful  alacrity  which  he  en- 
deavored not  to  make  too  strongly  marked,  exhibited  to 
the  visitor  the  water-color  sketches  in  his  portfolio  or 
fastened  against  the  wall. 

In  a  corner  of  the  room,  in  a  good  light,  sat  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley on  a  high  chair,  her  feet  on  the  lower  round.  She 
was  busily  painting  on  a  very  small  landscape  in  which 


206  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

there  were  a  good  many  houses.  She  thought  it  her  duty 
to  give  all  her  available  time  to  painting,  because  it  was 
not  right  to  be  idle.  She  used  small  canvases  because 
they  were  cheaper,  and  she  liked  to  put  in  houses  because 
they  suggested  more  than  trees  or  the  ordinary  features  of 
a  landscape.  Almost  anything  might  be  happening  in 
a  house. 

As  the  visitor,  walked  about  the  studio  Mrs.  Chiverley 
did  not  look  up  from  her  work,  nor  speak ;  but  as  she 
assiduously  touched  a  chimney  in  the  same  place  with  the 
same  color  over  and  over  again,  she  listened  with  all  her 
ears.  When  the  gentleman  stopped  before  a  picture, 
speaking  of  its  good  points  with  apparent  appreciation — 
for  Mr.  Chiverley's  pictures  had  good  points — her  spirits 
would  rise,  and  her  imagination  would  begin  to  play. 
There  arose  before  her  in  turn  the  vision  of  a  receipted 
landlord's  bill ;  of  something  really  good  for  dinner ;  of  a 
fresh  credit  opened  at  the  artist's  material  shop;  and 
once,  when  the  gentleman  stopped  before  an  oil-painting 
— for  although  she  did  not  turn  her  head,  she  watched  him 
carefully  from  the  corners  of  her  eyes — there  came  up  be- 
fore her  a  mental  picture  of  a  nook  in  the  Adirondacks, 
with  mountain,  stream,  lake,  forest,  and  clear  blue  sky,  all 
smiling  with  sunlit  pleasure  at  being  able  to  furnish  such 
beautiful  back,  middle  and  foregrounds  to  Mr.  Chiverley. 

But  the  gentleman  found  nothing  which  would  suit  him. 
Mr.  Chiverley  had  no  bright  little  sketches,  no  dashes  of 
inspiration.  His  pictures  were  generally  large  and  care- 
fully finished,  and  although  he  would  have  gladly  parted 
with  some  of  them  for  a  very  small  price  had  it  been 
offered  him,  his  visitor  had  a  conscience  and  would  not 
offer  a  comparative  trifle  for  a  picture  that  was  worth  a 
great  deal  more  if  it  were  worth  anything.  And  if  he  paid 
more  than  a  comparative  trifle,  he  would  like  something 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN-.  207 

that  pleased  him  better.  Mr.  Chiverley's  work  did  not 
attract  him. 

As  he  moved  toward  the  door  he  stopped.  "  That  is  a 
beautiful  clock,  sir,'1  he  said.  "  Now,  that  is  a  clock  worth 
having! "  And  he  stood  before  it  in  silent  admiration. 

Mr.  Chiverley  turned  toward  the  window  and  looked 
out  at  the  sky.  "  We  don't  deal  in  clocks,"  he  said,  "  but 
if  that  bit  of  old  furniture  pleases  you " 

Mrs.  Chiverley  still  sat  on  the  high  chair  with  her  feet 
on  the  round,  and  in  her  hand  she  still  held  her  brush ; 
but  the  houses  and  the  chimneys  and  the  trees  and  the 
little  bushes  were  all  getting  mixed  up  in  a  sort  of  gray 
mist.  At  this  moment  she  spoke  out  clearly  and  firmly, 
without  turning  her  head.  "  That  clock  is  not  for  sale," 
she  said. 

The  gentleman  now  bowed  and  took  his  leave,  and  Mr. 
Chiverley  accompanied  him  to  the  top  of  the  stairs.  In 
a  few  moments  he  returned.  His  wife  had  stopped  paint- 
ing and  had  pushed  back  her  chair. 

"  Were  you  saying  anything  more  to  him  about  the 
clock?"  she  asked  quickly. 

"  I  merely  asked  him  his  address,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley 
as  he  took  his  seat  before  his  easel  and  commenced  work. 
"  Some  day  we  may  have  something  which  will  suit  him, 
and  we  should  always  get  the  address  of  a  possible  cus- 
tomer. And  now,  my  dear,  let  us  go  bravely  to  work 
again.  I  want  you  to  come  and  sit  for  the  head  of  this 
peasant  woman  who  is  standing  upon  the  bridge." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  said  "nothing,  but  went  and  took  her 
accustomed  seat  in  the  chair  by  her  husband's  easel. 
When  he  turned  toward  her,  the  hand  which  held  his 
brush  dropped  upon  his  knee,  and  he  sat  up  straight.  Her 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  there  was  an  expression  upon 
her  face  which  never  before  had  he  seen  there.  It  was 


208  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

the  face  of  a  lovely  woman  who  had  borne  up  courage- 
ously against  misfortune,  but  who  now  was  on  the  point  of 
breaking  down.  Chiverley  gazed  at  her  steadfastly.  She 
did  not  notice  that  he  was  not  working,  and  waited  until 
he  should  speak  to  her  in  regard  to  her  position. 

Harry  Chiverley  quietly  arose.  He  took  from  his  easel 
his  unfinished  painting,  and  placed  thereon  a  fresh  canvas. 
Then  gently  asking  his  wife  to  turn  her  face  toward  him, 
he  began  to  rapidly  paint  her  head,  life  size.  She  looked 
in  his  direction  but  did  not  see  him.  There  were  tears 
upon  her  cheek,  and  she  was  about  to  wipe  them  away. 

"  Don't  raise  your  hand,  my  dear,"  he  said.  "  They  do 
not  interfere  in  the  least." 

"  Do  you  really  think  we  shall  have  to  sell  the  clock?  " 
she  said,  in  a  low  voice  a  good  deal  broken.  "  It  is  one 
of  the  family." 

Now,  as  Harry  Chiverley  looked  upon  his  wife,  his  feel- 
ings had  been  wound  up  to  such  a  pitch  that  he  would 
have  sold  one  of  his  legs  as  willingly  as  that  clock.  His 
heart  beat  fast  and  his  brush  moved  quickly  as  he  said: 
"  But  you  know,  my  dear,  we  must  sell  something  or  we 
cannot  live !  The  clock  is  very  dear  to  us.  It  is  a  real 
and  a  true  friend,  but  it  is  worth  a  good  deal  of  money 
and  perhaps  we  ought  to  sell  it." 

This  was  the  first  really  cruel  thing  that  Harry  Chiverley 
had  ever  said  to  his  wife,  and  it  deepened  the  pain  upon 
her  face,  and  brought  more  tears  into  her  sorrowing,  tender 
eyes.  Had  she  spoken  she  would  have  burst  into  weep- 
ing. Harry  Chiverley  could  never  have  imagined  such 
loveliness  infused  by  grief;  but  he  could  paint  it  when  he 
saw  it.  And  paint  it  he  did ;  faster,  and  with  more  earnest 
fervor  than  ever  before.  She  sat  looking  at  him  without 
seeing  him,  and  thinking  he  was  painting  the  peasant 
woman  upon  the  bridge.  Each  moment  it  seemed  as  if 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  209 

she  would  throw  herself  upon  her  husband's  bosom  and 
weep  her  heart  oat.  It  was  not  only  the  clock;  it  was 
everything.  She  knew  they  had  no  right  to  anything! 

Mr.  Chiverley's  eyes  flashed  from  her  to  the  canvas. 
He  painted  faster  than  ever.  Presently  he  sprang  to  his 
feet.  Without  dropping  his  brush,  his  palette  or  his 
maul-stick,  he  fell  on  his  knees  before  his  wife  and  folded 
her  in  his  arms. 

"Darling!"  he  cried.  "We  shall  not  sell  the  clock! 
We  shall  sell  that  picture !  " 

"  They  never  did  buy  them,"  sobbed  his  wife,  her  face 
upon  his  shoulder.  "  There  are  already  three  of  them 
with  the  woman  and  the  bridge." 

"Angel!  Exalted  being!"  he  cried.  "Queen  of 
clocks,  studios,  and  the  whole  world!  Look  at  that!  " 
pointing  to  his  easel  with  his  brush.  "  When  I  have  put 
in  the  hair  and  the  drapery  and  the  background,  that  will 
be  the  picture  which  shall  lift  us  out  of  every  trouble." 

"  It  is  in  enough  trouble  itself,"  she  said,  coming  round 
to  the  easel  and  wiping  her  eyes.  "  I  do  believe  it  is  in- 
tended for  me!  " 

"Dearest!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Chiverley,  "I  have  traded 
upon  your  sorrow.  Out  of  your  grief  I  shall  bring  you  joy. 
I  never  had  such  a  model  before !  That  picture  will  sell!  " 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she  said,  "  that  you  spoke  as 
you  did  to  make  me  look  that  way?  " 

"  Not  to  make  you  look  so,"  he  answered,  "  only  to  keep 
you  so  until  I  caught  the  angelic  woe.  And  now,"  he 
cried,  as  he  sat  down  before  the  canvas,  "for  joy,  peace, 
rapture !  " 

"  Beef  and  butter,"  added  his  wife  with  a  slight  but 
hopeful  smile  upon  her  face.     She  could  see  that  if  he  did 
not  spoil  it  by  working  on  it  too  much,  this  would  be  the 
best  picture  her  husband  had  ever  painted. 
14 


210  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

Until  dusk  of  the  long  day  Harry  Chiverley  painted, 
and  early  the  next  morning,  and  all  that  day  he  was  at 
it  again;  and  on  the  next  day  it  was  finished.  He  would 
have  liked  to  work  a  little  more  upon  the  face,  but  he  was 
afraid  to  do  it  without  a  model,  and  his  wife  earnestly  en- 
treated him  not  to  touch  it.  As  she  looked  upon  her 
face,  shadowed  by  grief,  but  illumined  by  the  faint  light 
of  her  expiring  courage,  she  felt  almost  happy.  This  was 
a  good  picture.  If  Mr.  Chiverley  could  find  models  with 
spirit,  vim,  snap,  sparkle  already  in  them  he  would  suc- 
ceed, but  he  could  not  supply  these  things  himself. 

This  picture  was  very  soon  sold  to  a  dealer  for  a 
moderately  good  price,  which,  however,  would  have  been 
larger  had  the  reputation  of  the  artist  been  proportionate 
to  the  merit  of  the  picture. 

"Angel  of  my  heart!"  cried  Harry  Chiverley  as  he 
skipped  around  his  studio,  waving  a  check  over  his  head. 
"  Happiness  dawns!  Joy  blossoms!  My  true  artistic  career 
has  begun !  " 

And,  like  the  good,  industrious  man  that  he  was,  he  sat 
down  to  work  at  the  woman  on  the  bridge. 

The  meals  of  the  Chiverley's  now  became  regular 
breakfasts,  luncheons  and  dinners;  the  receipted  land- 
lord's bill  was  a  reality,  not  a  vision,  and  the  clock  spoke 
out  the  hours  and  half-hours  in  a  voice  that  assured  them 
he  was  there  and  intended  to  stay. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  improvement  in  their  circum- 
stances, the  Chiverleys  did  not  feel  that  they  were  able 
to  go  into  the  country  that  summer.  The  past  demanded 
so  much  of  their  little  horde  that  the  future  must  be  con- 
tent with  less  than  its  proper  share.  They,  therefore, 
bravely  made  up  their  minds  to  stay  in  town  and  be  as 
happy  as  the  thousands  of  other  good  people  who  had  to 
do  the  same  thing.  There  was  a  fine  circulation  of  air  in 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  211 

the  studio  when  all  the  windows  were  open,  and  Mr. 
Chiverley  sat  in  this  breezy  coolness  and  painted  from  old 
sketches  and  farm  memory,  landscapes  which  were  like 
fashion  plates  for  the  use  of  Dame  Nalure ;  if  she  wanted 
to  know  the  latest  shapes  in  mountains,  or  the  newest 
autumnal  colors  in  trees  or  reflections,  there  she  had 
them. 

In  these  long  summer  days  Mrs.  Chiverley  liked  to 
place  her  easel  where  she  could  look  through  their  little 
bed-chamber,  and  out  of  its  open  western  window.  Op- 
posite this  window,  on  the  other  side  of  the  street,  was  a 
large  room  at  the  top  of  a  tall  building  in  which  men 
worked  in  wood,  apparently  making  boxes.  At  the  back 
of  this  room  was  a  western  window,  and  when  this  was 
open  Mrs.  Chiverley  could  look  straight  through  the  shop, 
and  far,  far  away,  she  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  Pali- 
sades and  the  New  Jersey  hills  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Hudson.  There  she  could  see  the  dim  outline  of  trees 
against  the  sky,  and  it  often  pleased  her  to  take  little  rests 
and  to  lean  back  in  her  chair  and  let  her  fancy  go  out  of 
her  chamber  window  and  through  the  box  maker's  shop 
to  that  far-off  bit  of  real  country.  She  knew  that  there 
were  pleasant  shades  beneath  the  trees,  and  that  not  far 
away  there  must  be  a  house,  most  likely  a  true  little  farm- 
house, with  great  oaks  about  it,  and  white  hens  pecking 
in  the  green  grass ;  and,  beyond  that,  long,  meadowy  slopes 
with  gray  fences  and  a  winding  lane  which  led  into  a 
wood,  where  there  was  a  stream  and  rocks  and  deeply- 
shaded  spots.  From  day  to  day  these  quiet  scenes  be- 
came more  real  and  familiar  to  her,  until  she  could  have 
told  you  what  kinds  of  wild  flowers  grew  by  the  side  of 
the  winding  lane,  and  where  you  could  find  the  pleasantest 
rocks  on  which  to  sit  and  sketch.  She  was  always  sorry 
when  the  sun  got  so  far  round  to  the  west  that  one  of  the 


212  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

workmen  pulled  down  the  shade  of  the  back  window, 
and  shut  out  her  summer  day  in  the  country. 

The  money  for  the  sold  picture  had  nearly  ebbed 
itself  away,  and  the  Chiverleys  were  again  feeling  very 
poor,  though  still  brave  and  cheery,  when  Ardis  Claver- 
den's  letter  came  stating  that  she  was  about  to  pay  them 
a  visit. 

"  There  is  something  so  oddly  absurd  in  our  having  a 
visitor  at  this  time,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "that  I  feel  in- 
clined to  laugh  at  it.  But  of  course  she  must  come.  It 
would  go  hard  with  me  after  reading  that  letter  and  re- 
membering how  we  have  been  entertained  at  Bald  Hill  to 
telegraph  to  her  that  we  could  not  have  her.  But  I  do 
wish  that  she  had  planned  to  visit  us  in  palmier  days." 

"  But  we  must  not  think  of  that,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley, 
"  and  if  I  were  you  I  would  go  and  telegraph  to  her  that 
we  shall  be  too  glad  to  have  her." 

"  That  will  cost  something,"  said  her  husband,  "  and  it 
is  not  really  necessary." 

"Don't  think  of  that,"  she  said.  "It  will  be  much 
more  cordial  to  let  her  hear  that  we  expect  her,  than  to 
let  her  imagine  so  from  not  hearing." 

"  But  what  are  we  going  to  do  with  her?  "  said  Mr. 
Chiverley. 

"  We  must  settle  that  after  you  have  telegraphed,"  an- 
swered his  wife. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  213 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

THE  day  on  which  Ardis  Claverden  was  expected  was 
a  very  busy  one  for  the  Chiverleys.  Painting  was 
entirely  set  aside,  and  although  this  was  a  thing  they  were 
very  much  opposed  to,  being  systematic  as  well  as  indus- 
trious workers,  they  decided  that  under  the  circumstances 
it  was  reasonable  to  allow  themselves  this  break  in  their 
ordinary  routine;  and,  in  fact,  they  both  very  much  en- 
joyed it.  The  rooms  were  cleaned,  dusted,  and  "  spruced 
up ; "  the  pictures  in  which  Ardis  was  likely  to  take  in- 
terest were  brought  to  the  front ;  and  the  brasses  of  the 
clock  were  freshly  polished.  Their  own  chamber  was 
prepared  for  the  visitor,  while  their  sleeping  quarters  were 
established  in  the  screened-off  corner  of  the  studio  which 
had  been  used  as  the  guest-room  on  occasions  when 
some  artist  friend  from  the  country  happened  to  spend 
the  night  with  them.  They  had  expected  to  make  this 
present  arrangement  when  they  first  invited  Ardis  to  visit 
them,  and  it  was  not  in  relation  to  the  guest-room  that 
Mr.  Chiverley  had  asked :  "  What  are  we  going  to  do  with 
her?  " 

"  It  seems  to  me,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley  when  everything 
she  could  think  of  doing  had  been  done,  "  that  Ardis  ought 
to  find  herself  comfortable  here.  To  be  sure,  everything 
is  very  different  from  what  she  is  accustomed  to  at  Bald 
Hill,  but  I  believe  she  will  like  that.  It  would  be  stupid 
enough  if  we  always  found  abroad  just  the  sort  of  thing 
we  are  accustomed  to  at  home." 

"  If  it  is  difference  she  wants,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "she 


214  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

can  find  it  here  to  her  heart's  content.  I  am  not  sure, 
however,  that  her  craving  for  variety  will  be  appeased  by 
the  nondescript  meals  which  are  served  up  in  this  studio." 

"If  they  should  be  good  nondescript  meals  they  will 
suit  her  very  well,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  but  what  they 
are  going  to  be  I  am  sure  I  do  not  know.  But  we  must 
do  our  best,  and  at  all  events  I  am  very  glad  that  we  did 
not  telegraph  to  her  not  to  come." 

"  And  your  consort  is  equally  so,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley, 
"and  let  us  not  grieve  over  the  subject  of  refreshments. 
Hitherto  our  custom  has  been  to  divide  what  we  have  by 
two;  let  us  divide  it  by  three,  and  the  thing  is  settled." 

The  husband  and  wife  had  scarcely  shaken  hands  over 
this  settlement  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
in  a  moment  Ardis  was  with  them.  She  was  alone,  for 
she  had  insisted  upon  parting  with  the  ex-governor  at  the 
street  door,  and  she  had  arrived  an  hour  before  she  ex- 
pected. But  had  she  come  in  the  midst  of  their  cleaning 
and  polishing,  the  Chiverleys  would  have  given  her  the 
warmest  and  wildest  of  welcomes.  The  weather  was  cold, 
and  she  wore  furs.  The  Chiverleys  had  never  seen  her  in 
furs,  and  she  dawned  upon  them  with  a  new  beauty;  and 
Ardis  was  as  delighted  to  be  there  as  they  were  to  have 
her.  Before  she  took  off  a  single  wrap  she  walked  around 
the  studio  and  looked  at  every  picture,  and  when  she  was 
introduced  to  the  clock  she  declared  she  would  shake  hands 
with  it.  But  Mr.  Chiverley  was  of  the  opinion  that  such 
an  act  of  condescension  would  either  make  the  clock  too 
forward,  or  humble  it  by  giving  it  a  sudden  set-back. 

"  That  is  not  a  very  good  joke,"  he  said,  "but  the  clock 
and  Mrs.  Chiverley  are  used  to  that  sort  of  thing,  and  I 
hope  you  will  not  mind." 

"Mind!"  cried  Ardis.  "I  have  heard  you  make  a 
great  many  worse  ones  at  Bald  Hill." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


215 


The  evening  was  a  lively  one.  Ardis  was  in  her  gayest 
spirits,  and  delighted  the  souls  of  the  Chiverleys  with 
bright  bits  of  news  from  Bald  Hill  and  anecdotes  of  the 
negroes.  Bald  Hill  was  the  king  of  homes  to  the  Chiv- 
erleys, and  they  knew  all  the  negroes,  and  had  sketched 
most  of  them.  When  the  clock  with  twelve  firm  but 
kindly  strokes  told  them  it  was  time  that  they  all  should 
be  in  bed,  they  were  amazed  at  the  lateness  of  the  hour. 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  Ardis  sat  at  Mrs. 
Chiverley's  little  desk  writing  to  her  father.  The  letter 
seemed  to  require  a  good  deal  of  consideration,  for  she 
frequently  leaned  back  in  her  chair,  the  pen  idle  in  her 
hand,  and  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  picture  which  happened 
to  hang  in  front  of  her.  But  the  letter  required  no 
thought  whatever,  and  she  did  not  notice  the  picture ;  she 
was  thinking  about  the  Chiverleys. 

She  was  surprised  to  find  her  friends  so  poor.  She 
had  known  that  their  style  of  living  was  more  artis- 
tic and  picturesque  than  domestic;  but  she  had  not 
imagined  that  it  was  associated  in  any  degree  with  de- 
privation. But  now  she  saw  that  this  was  the  case.  They 
offered  no  excuses  or  apologies;  and,  indeed,  supposed 
that  the  little  shifts  they  made  for  the  benefit  of  their 
visitor  would  be  unnoticed  by  her.  Ardis,  however,  had 
taken  but  two  meals  with  them,  when  it  became  perfectly 
plain  to  her  that  they  had  been  denying  themselves  in 
order  that  she  might  have  enough.  Mr.  Chiverley  had 
gayly  told  her  that  he  seldom  sold  any  pictures ;  and  had 
spoken  of  the  slow  way  in  which  scholars  came  in.  It 
was  evident  that  they  were  very  poor,  and  that  she  ought 
not  to  impose  another  burden  upon  them. 

But  she  did  not  wish  to  leave  these  friends.  She  had 
planned  to  make  them  a  good  visit.  She  enjoyed  their 
society,  and  desired  with  them  to  become  better  acquainted 


216  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

with  the  art  and  the  life  of  the  metropolis.  She  knew, 
furthermore,  that  it  pleased  these  good  people  to  have  her 
with  them. 

It  would  be  easy  enough  to  better  their  circumstances. 
If  Mr.  Chiverley  should  sell  a  picture  a  period  of  ease 
would  arrive  to  the  simple  life  of  their  household.  Ardis 
could  well  afford  to  buy  a  picture,  and  she  would  be  glad 
to  do  it.  She  was  aware  of  the  limitations  of  Mr.  Chiv- 
erley's  art,  but  there  were  some  of  his  pictures  which  pos- 
sessed a  peculiar  value  to  her,  for  they  were  from  studies 
made  at  Bald  Hill.  But  she  was  conscious  that  it  would 
never  do  for  her,  at  this  time,  to  offer  to  buy  a  picture. 
Her  hosts  would  be  sure  to  know  why  she  did  it.  And  if 
she  went  away  they  would  also  see  her  motive,  and  their 
sensitive  spirits  be  wounded. 

An  idea  came  to  her;  she  considered  it  a  few  moments, 
and  then  hastily  finished  her  letter  to  her  father.  She 
now  wrote  a  note  to  ex-Governor  Upton,  in  which  she 
desired  him  as  soon  as  possible  after  three  o'clock  that 
afternoon  to  come  to  the  studio  of  Mr.  Chiverley,  of 
which  she  gave  the  address,  and  to  look  at  his  paintings. 
Among  the  few  framed  pictures  he  would  see  one,  hang- 
ing in  a  conspicuous  position,  which  represented  her  studio 
at  Bald  Hill,  with  Uncle  Shad  and  the  ox-cart  near  by. 
He  could  not  fail  to  recognize  it,  as  the  details  were  so 
faithfully  given.  This  picture  she  desired  him  to  buy  at 
whatever  price  the  artist  might  set  upon  it.  As  soon  as 
possible  she  would  see  him,  reimburse  his  expenditure, 
and  explain  the  proceeding.  She  directed  this  note  to  the 
ex-governor's  hotel;  and  declining  Mr.  Chiverley's  offer 
to  post  her  letters  she  went  out,  put  her  father's  in  a  letter- 
box, and  sent  that  for  the  ex-governor  by  a  messenger. 

Soon  after  luncheon  Ardis  carried  off  Mrs.  Chiverley  on 
a  pilgrimage  among  the  shops.  She  did  not  in  the  least 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  217 

mind  taking  her  hostess  from  her  work ;  the  little  lady  was 
benefited,  and  art  did  not  suffer.  Mr.  Chiverley,  of 
course,  remained  at  home,  for  it  would  never  do  for  them 
both  to  go  out  in  the  day-time  and  lock  up  the  studio. 
And  it  was  very  well  that  he  thus  attended  to  his  interests, 
for  about  ten  minutes  past  three  o'clock  he  had  a  visitor. 
This  was  an  elderly  gentleman,  of  tall  and  portly  figure 
and  urbane  and  gracious  manner.  The  moment  he  entered 
the  studio,  there  was  a  general  blossoming  of  hopes  in  the 
heart  of  Mr.  Chiverley.  This  man  looked  as  if  he  meant 
business,  and  he  was  a  stranger.  When  Mr.  Chiverley 
sold  any  of  his  works,  it  was  always  to  a  stranger. 

"  My  name,  sir,"  said  the  visitor,  "  is  Upton,  and  this,  I 
presume,  is  Mr.  Chiverley."  And  he  extended  his  hand. 
"  As  a  friend  of  the  Claverden  family,  I  am  happy  to  know 
you,  sir.  I  have  been  requested  by  Miss  Ardis  Claverden, 
who  is  visiting  you,  and  who  I  imagine  is  not  within  doors 
on  this  beautiful  day,  to  call  upon  you,  sir,  and  purchase 
a  certain  painting  which  she  described  to  me  in  a  note 
she  sent  me  this  morning,  and  which  I  think  I  can  identify 
without  difficulty."  And  putting  on  his  eye-glasses,  he 
began  to  walk  about  the  room  and  look  at  the  pictures. 

"  Miss  Claverden  asked  you  to  come  here  and  buy  a 
picture?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Chiverley. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  the  ex-governor.  "  The  scene  of  it  is 
laid  at  Bald  Hill,  and  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  point  it 
out  to  you  in  a  few  minutes." 

Harry  Chiverley  stood  silent.  This  gentleman  had 
been  requested  by  Ardis  in  a  note  sent  this  morning  to 
come  here  and  buy  a  picture !  The  whole  affair  was  as 
easy  to  see  through  as  the  Venetian  goblet  at  which  he 
was  vacantly  gazing.  Their  guest  had  been  able  to  per- 
ceive thus  soon  that  they  were  really  not  able  to  entertain 
her,  and  she  had  taken  this  method  of  assisting  them.  In 


218  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

one  way  it  was  a  legitimate  method,  for  it  was  his  business 
to  sell  pictures,  and  it  was  but  a  friendly  act  to  get  him  a 
customer;  but  Mr.  Chiverley  did  not  doubt  in  the  least 
that  Ardis  Claverden  intended  to  pay  for  this  picture  her- 
self. She  might  want  it,  perhaps,  but,  for  all  that,  it  was 
an  act  of  charity.  Had  she  not  believed  it  would  be  so 
considered,  she  would  not  have  thought  it  necessary  to 
employ  an  agent  in  its  purchase. 

Ex-Governor  Upton's  manner  of  examining  pictures 
was  very  slow  and  deliberate,  and  it  gave  the  artist  plenty 
of  time  to  think.  The  announcement  made  by  his  visitor 
had  come  upon  him  like  a  dash  of  iced  water,  but  now 
the  reaction  began  to  set  in,  and  the  chill  of  the  charity 
was  gradually  succeeded  by  a  glow  of  grateful  admiration 
for  the  kind-hearted  girl  who  had  thought  of  doing  this 
thing.  He  knew  that  she  had  intended  it  as  a  most  deli- 
cate act  of  friendship ;  and  that  in  doing  her  errand,  this 
elderly  gentleman  had  bungled. 

Mr.  Chiverley  was  so  sure  that  this  conclusion  was  cor- 
rect that  he  stepped  up  to  the  ex-governor,  and  said :  "  I 
think  I  can  show  you  the  painting  you  are  looking  for, 
sir;  but  before  doing  so,  let  me  ask  you  if  Miss  Claverden, 
in  her  note  to  you,  requested  that  her  name  should  not 
be  brought  into  this  transaction?" 

Mr.  Upton  turned  suddenly  and  gazed  fixedly  at  the 
artist ;  then  he  put  his  hand  in  the  side  pocket  of  his  coat 
and  drew  out  a  note.  "  I  brought  this  with  me,  sir,"  he 
said,  "on  account  of  the  address.  I  will  look  at  it." 

He  did  look  at  it.  He  read  it  through.  Then  he 
turned  it  over,  and  found  some  lines  written  at  the  top  of 
the  first  page.  These  lines  read  thus:  "Please  do  not  let 
Mr.  Chiverley  imagine  that  I  sent  you.  Indeed,  I  should 
like  him  to  think  you  never  heard  of  me." 

"  Upon  my  word!  "  exclaimed  the  ex-governor.     "  This 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


219 


injunction,  placed  in  a  most  conspicuous  position,  entirely 
escaped  my  notice.  I  am  accustomed  to  find  nothing  but 
an  address  and  a  date  at  the  top  of  a  letter,  and  so  left 
this  unread.  I  declare,  sir,  I  am  afraid  I  have  put  my 
foot  into  it! " 

"  Honestly  speaking,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "  I  think  that 
is  what  you  have  done,  sir." 

"  What  can  I  say,  sir,"  cried  the  ex-governor,  "  to  ex- 
press my  dismay  and  distress  at  this  unfortunate  occur- 
rence? I  see  now  that  the  young  lady  desired  me  to 
come  here  as  a  stranger  and  buy  the  picture." 

"That  is  exactly  what  she  intended,"  said  Mr.  Chiv- 
erley, "and  now,  sir,  the  only  thing  we  can  do  is  to 
keep  to  ourselves  all  knowledge  of  this  mistake.  It  would 
sorely  wound  Miss  Claverden,  should  she  know  what  has 
happened.  I  will  accept  the  situation.  I  know  that  she 
likes  this  picture,  and  my  pictures  are  for  sale.  I  know 
also  that  she  buys  it  at  this  time  because  she  knows  that 
my  circumstances  are  not  flourishing.  But  I  much  prefer 
to  be  humiliated  than  that  our  warm-hearted  young  friend 
should  suspect  a  jot  of  what  has  happened." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  ex-governor,  stretching  out  his  hand, 
"  you  are  a  gentleman  to  the  backbone !  This  most  un- 
fortunate outcome  of  my  mission  is  due  entirely  to  my 
own  stupidity.  I  offer  you  my  most  humble  apologies, 
and  I  entirely  agree  with  you  that  nothing  should  be  said 
of  my  inexcusable  blunder,  and  that  we  should  proceed 
with  the  business  as  Miss  Claverden  intended." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  endeavoring  to  throw 
something  of  his  ordinary  good-humor  into  his  manner. 
"  And  don't  make  apologies,  I  beg  of  you,  sir.  We  will 
drop  all  that,  and  look  at  this  thing  as  the  straightforward 
piece  of  business  it  was  intended  to  be.  This  is  the 
picture  you  are  looking  for." 


220  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

The  ex-governor  took  off  his  eye-glasses,  wiped  them, 
put  them  on  again,  and  stepped  up  to  the  painting  indi- 
cated. "  Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  after  looking  at  it  attentively, 
"you  are  right.  Here  is  Miss  Claverden's  studio;  here 
is  the  negro  man  with  his  team  of  oxen  and  his  wagon; 
and  here  is  the  very  grass  that  grows  about  the  mansion 
of  Bald  Hill.  It  is  an  admirable  picture,  sir — most  ad- 
mirable! I  do  not  wonder  that  Miss  Claverden  desires 
to  have  it!  And  now,  sir,  what  is  the  price  you  ask  for 
this  work  of  art?" 

Without  hesitation  Mr.  Chiverley  mentioned  the  price 
he  would  have  asked  of  any  ordinary  buyer;  and  the  ex- 
governor  drew  out  his  pocket-book  and  paid  the  money. 

Anxious  that  the  painting  should  leave  the  studio  be- 
fore the  return  of  Ardis,  Mr.  Upton  sent  for  a  messenger 
and  had  the  picture  carried  to  his  hotel.  "  It  shall  hang  in 
my  room,  sir,"  he  said,  "  while  I  remain  in  New  York ;  and 
when  I  leave,  it  shall  be  boxed  and  sent  to  its  destination." 

Mr.  Chiverley  laughed.  "  Now,"  he  said,  "  it  almost 
seems  as  if  you  were  really  the  purchaser  of  the  picture." 

"  That  is  the  way  to  look  at  it,"  said  the  ex-governor. 
"  It  was  intended  we  should  so  look  at  it,  and  we  should  do 
it.  All  the  rest  should  be  blotted  from  our  recollection. 
I  bid  you  good-day,  sir,  and  I  am  very  glad  indeed  to  have 
made  your  acquaintance." 

When  the  two  ladies  returned,  they  found  Harry  Chiv- 
erley sitting  on  a  high  stool  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  his 
arms  folded,  and  on  his  head  a  tall  silk  hat. 

"  You  must  excuse  this  hat,"  he  said,  addressing  Ardis. 
"  It  is  not  my  custom  to  wear  it,  especially  in  the  house ; 
but,  as  Mrs.  Chiverley  knows,  I  always  put  it  on  when  I 
have  sold  a  picture." 

"Sold  a  picture!"  cried  his  wife,  while  Ardis  turned 
around  to  lay  her  hat  upon  a  table. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  221 

"  Yes,  ladies,'1  Mr.  Chiverley  said,  still  sitting  upon  his 
stool,  "  I  have  to  announce  that  during  your  absence  I 
have  sold  one  of  the  works  of  art  which  formerly  adorned 
this  gallery.  You  had  been  gone  perhaps  an  hour,  when 
a  fine  old  gentleman,  all  of  the  olden  time — I  know  he 
was  Southern  from  his  intonation — came  in  and  asked  to 
look  over  my  pictures.  He  seemed  to  be  endowed  with 
a  remarkable  appreciation  of  art.  As  a  proof  of  this  he 
bought  one  of  my  paintings.  As  might  have  been  ex- 
pected, he  chose  a  Southern  subject;  and,  by  the  way,  it 
was  one  of  the  Bald  Hill  pictures." 

During  this  address,  Mr.  Chiverley  kept  his  chin  well 
up  in  the  air  with  the  manner  of  a  man  whose  worth  had 
been  duly  recognized,  occasionally  glancing  from  one  lady 
to  the  other,  but  addressing  his  remarks  impartially  to  the 
space  between  them. 

Ardis  bore  the  ordeal  well.  Her  face  was  somewhat 
flushed,  but  it  could  be  considered  no  more  than  natural 
that  she  should  thus  show  her  pleasure  at  the  good  fortune 
of  her  friends. 

Mrs.  Chiverley  was  in  a  tremor  of  delight.  "  What 
was  his  name?  "  she  cried.  "  Who  was  he?  " 

"  Would  you  believe  it,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  suddenly 
bringing  down  his  chin,  "  I  never  asked  him !  And  what 
is  more,  he  had  a  messenger  called,  and  sent  the  picture 
off  to  his  hotel." 

"  That  was  very  considerate  of  good  Mr.  Upton," 
thought  Ardis.  "He  certainly  managed  the  matter  well! 
It  was  most  prudent  in  him  not  to  give  his  name! " 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  you  did  not  get  his  name!"  cried 
Mrs.  Chiverley.  "  Every  picture  sold  should  be  entered 
in  a  book  with  the  name  of  the  purchaser  and  all  particu- 
lars. You  might  want  to  trace  it." 

"Bless  your  soul!  "  cried  Mr.  Chiverley  jumping  down 


222  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

from  the  stool  and  taking  off  his  hat,  "  I  would  much 
rather  paint  another  picture  than  trace  that  one!  And 
now,  madam,  I  am  going  out  on  some  business.  Is  there 
anything  I  can  do  for  you?  " 

There  were  a  great  many  things  he  could  do  for  her,  and 
when  Ardis  had  gone  to  her  room,  Mrs.  Chiverley  men- 
tioned some  of  these,  and  poured  out  her  joy  meanwhile. 
"  Nothing  more  fortunate  could  happen  to  two  deserving 
people,"  she  said.  "  To  think  that  we  should  sell  a  picture 
at  this  moment!  Ardis  must  wonder  that  we  are  so  full 
of  delight,  but  she  cannot  appreciate  what  a  momentous 
thing  it  is  for  us  to  sell  a  picture !  And  what  did  you 
get  for  it  ?  " 

When  Mr.  Chiveiley  told  her  she  threw  her  arms  round 
his  neck  and  kissed  him. 

"Thanks!"  he  said.  "There  is  no  better  way  of 
stamping  a  transaction  with  approval.  And  now,  my  dear, 
what  shall  I  get  for  dinner?  It  must  be  something  jolly, 
already  cooked." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  223 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE  little  family  at  the  studio  was  now  a  very  happy 
one.  Mrs.  Chiverley  bloomed  like  a  June  rose  in 
the  warmth  and  light  of  pecuniary  sufficiency,  and  Mr. 
Chiverley  having  eased  his  mind  by  the  decision  that  this 
money  which  had  come  from  Ardis  should  be  used,  as  far 
as  possible,  for  her  benefit,  allowed  his  spirits  to  rise  as 
high  as  they  pleased ;  and  being  used  to  lofty  flights,  they 
arose  to  a  great  altitude  and  staid  there.  What  his  wife 
sometimes  gently  alluded  to  as  super-hospitality,  he  con- 
sidered strict  justice,  and  they  lived  merrily. 

Ardis,  too,  was  happy.  What  she  had  done,  and  its 
effects  upon  her  friends,  had,  of  course,  a  gladdening  in- 
fluence upon  her.  And,  besides  that,  she  greatly  enjoyed 
her  life  in  New  York.  With  one  or  the  other  of  her 
friends  in  the  day-time,  and  with  both  of  them  at  night, 
she  visited  studios  and  art  exhibitions,  and  many  interest- 
ing places  besides.  And  as  for  society,  they  had  all  that 
they  wanted,  for  both  she  and  the  Chiverleys  had  friends 
among  the  best  people  in  New  York. 

In  regard  to  Roger  Dunworth  and  his  relations  to  her, 
her  mind  had  now  grown  to  be  at  ease.  When  he  came 
home  he  would  find  out  that  he  had  made  a  terrible  mis- 
take about  Mr.  Surrey;  and  if  he  did  not  find  out  this 
for  himself,  she  was  quite  sure  that  both  Norma  and 
Dr.  Lester  would  help  him  to  the  discovery.  Then  when 
he  spoke  again — and  she  did  not  in  the  least  doubt  he 
would  speak  again — she  would  have  her  answer  ready. 
There  was  no  reason  for  impatience,  if  there  should  be  a 


224  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN, 

certain  delay  in  the  settlement  of  this  matter  between 
Roger  and  herself.  She  hoped  he  would  take  plenty  of 
time  after  his  return  to  fully  satisfy  his  mind  concerning 
his  mistake.  Then,  and  not  before,  would  he  have  a  right 
to  speak. 

Ardis  had  been  with  the  Chiverleys  about  a  month 
when,  one  afternoon,  on  her  return  from  a  walk  with  Mrs. 
Chiverley,  she  found  a  letter  from  Dr.  Lester.  It  was  a 
long  letter,  and  she  took  it  into  her  room  and  sat  down 
to  read  it. 

The  doctor  began  by  saying  that  he  had  hesitated  a 
good  deal  before  writing  this  letter;  but  that  as  he  had 
promised  that  he  would  give  her  all  the  information  in  re- 
gard to  Roger  Dunworth  that  he  himself  should  receive, 
he  felt  it  his  duty  to  keep  his  promise,  be  his  news  good 
or  bad.  He  had  received  a  letter  from  Roger  Dunworth 
which  was  a  strictly  business  epistle  and  related  to  the 
forwarding  of  money  to  the  writer  at  Atlanta,  toward  which 
city  the  doctor  supposed  him  to  be  making  his  way. 
Breeville,  the  village  where  this  letter  was  written,  had 
probably  infrequent  mails,  for  Roger's  letter  had  lain  for 
some  days  in  the  post-office;  and  the  postmaster  had 
written  a  message  on  the  back  of  it  to  the  effect  that  the 
young  man  who  had  posted  that  letter  had  got  into 
trouble ;  and  that  if  he  had  any  friends  some  of  them 
ought  to  come  down  and  see  about  him.  The  doctor's 
impulse  had  been  to  instantly  start  for  the  place  himself, 
but  as  this  was  not  practicable,  he  had  telegraphed  to  the 
station  nearest  Breeville,  to  which  village  his  message  had 
been  forwarded,  asking  the  postmaster  for  full  particulars 
of  Roger's  difficulties.  " 

He  had  now  a  letter  from  said  postmaster,  in  which 
he  stated  that  Mr  Dunworth  had  been  at  that  place  for 
about  a  week,  riding  around  the  country  all  day  in  an 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


22$ 


apparently  aimless  manner,  and  returning  to  the  tavern  at 
night.  This  method  of  action  had  excited  the  suspicions 
of  the  neighbors,  for  a  band  of  horse-thieves  had  recently 
come  into  that  part  of  the  country,  and  it  was  supposed 
that  this  shabbily  dressed  stranger,  mounted  upon  a  re- 
markably fine  horse,  might  be  a  confederate  of  these  men, 
and  that  his  trips  about  the  country  were  for  the  purpose 
of  collecting  information.  Soon  after  this  matter  began  to 
be  talked  about,  a  valuable  horse  was  stolen  from  a  farm 
about  ten  miles  from  Breeville,  toward  which  Dunworth 
had  been  seen  riding  the  day  before.  The  depredations 
of  the  horse-thieves  had  become  so  daring  that  a  vigilance 
committee  had  been  formed  in  the  county  to  capture 
and  make  short  work  of  them.  The  postmaster  added 
that  Dunworth  had  evidently  found  out  that  suspicion  had 
been  directed  against  him,  for  he  had  gone  off,  nobody 
knew  where.  This  flight  had  made  the  committee  feel 
sure  he  was  guilty,  and  they  were  now  in  pursuit  of  him, 
and,  if  caught,  it  would  probably  go  hard  with  him. 

Dr.  Lester  wrote  that  he  had  not  mentioned  the  matter 
to  Major  Claverden,  for  if  he  should  know  of  Roger's 
trouble  he  would  start  off  for  Georgia  immediately;  and 
the  doctor  did  not  think  that  Ardis'  father  should  be 
allowed  to  encounter  the  hardships,  privations,  and  per- 
haps dangers,  which  such  a  journey  would  entail,  without 
her  knowledge  and  consent. 

"  I  am  trying  to  arrange  matters,"  the  doctor  said  in 
conclusion,  "so  that  I  may  go  down  there  very  soon. 
I  hope  to  hear  from  you  before  I  start." 

At  the  bottom  of  the  letter  was  a  postscript  in  pencil. 
"  Have  just  received  a  telegram  from  the  Breeville  post- 
master. He  says :  '  Not  caught  yet.  I  will  stand  by  him 
if  possible.' " 

For  ten  minutes  after  finishing  reading  the  letter,  Ardis 


226  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

sat  steadily  looking  at  it.  Then  she  got  up,  and  stepping 
quickly  into  the  studio  put  on  her  wrap,  which  she  had 
thrown  over  a  chair  when  she  came  in. 

"  Going  out !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"Yes,"  said  Ardis,  "my  letter  requires  an  immediate 
answer.  I  am  going  to  the  telegraph  office." 

"  Let  me  attend  to  that  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley, 
rising. 

"  Oh,  no,  thank  you,"  replied  Ardis.  "  I  shall  be  back 
in  five  minutes." 

When  Ardis  left  the  studio,  she  had  not  yet  composed 
her  telegram,  but  before  she  reached  the  office  it  was  pre- 
pared. Jc  was  to  Dr.  Lester  and  ran  thus:  "  Do  not  start 
South.  Meet  me  at  Woodbridge  Station,  Wednesday, 
1 5th,  afternoon.  A." 

When  she  came  back  the  studio  was  lighted,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Chiverley  were  in  a  state  of  anxious  solicitude. 

"Has  anything  happened?"  cried  the  latter.  "Ardis, 
you  are  looking  positively  pale." 

"  Dear  friends,"  said  Ardis,  "  after  dinner  I  will  tell  you 
everything.  There  is  no  bad  news  from  Bald  Hill,  but  I 
have  heard  something  which  demands  instant  considera- 
tion." 

"  I  hope  it  is  nothing  that  will  take  her  away  from  us," 
said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  when  Ardis  had  gone  to  her  room. 
And  in  this  wish  her  husband  most  earnestly  joined  her. 
It  would  have  destroyed  their  appetite  for  dinner  if  they 
could  have  read  the  telegram  Ardis  had  sent. 

The  meal  was  a  quiet  one,  and  when  it  was  over  the 
three  friends  took  their  usual  seats  by  the  studio  fire. 

"  I  did  not  want  to  say  one  word,"  said  Ardis,  "  until  I 
had  fully  settled  in  my  own  mind  certain  important  mat- 
ters which  have  been  suddenly  brought  before  me.  It  is 
so  much  easier  to  talk  about  a  thing  when  you  have  de- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  227 

termined  what  you  are  going  to  do."  And  then  she  told 
them  all  what  Dr.  Lester  had  written. 

Her  hearers  were  shocked.  They  both  knew  Roger 
Dunworth  and  liked  him  much,  and  the  terrible  danger 
that  hung  over  him,  or  had  perhaps  already  overtaken  him, 
would  have  bitterly  afflicted  them,  even  if  they  had  not 
seen  that  Ardis  was  so  deeply  interested. 

"What  ought  to  be  done?  Is  there  anything  that  can 
be  done?"  cried  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  Some  of  his  friends  must  go  to  him,"  said  Ardis, 
"  vouch  for  him,  and  support  him.  An  utter  stranger  in 
that  wild  country,  he  has  no  chance  at  all  by  himself." 

"What  friends ?"  gasped  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  Myself,  for  one,"  said  Ardis. 

"I  thought  so!  I  was  afraid  of  it!  "  cried  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley, bursting  into  tears.  "  O  Ardis,  dear  Ardis,  don't 
think  of  it!  Don't  dream  of  it!  It  will  be  terrible!  It 
will  not  be  right.  It  is  not  to  be  thought  of  that  you 
should  go  down  there." 

"By  no  means,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "You  do  not 
know  the  dangers  of  such  an  undertaking.  And,  besides, 
my  dear  girl,  I  am  bound  to  say  to  you  that  nothing  you 
could  do  in  that  way  would  be  likely  to  be  of  any  avail. 
Whatever  danger  threatens  Roger  would  most  likely  over- 
take him  long  before  you  could  get  to  him." 

"  Oh,  I  have  thought  of  that !  I  have  thought  of  that !  " 
said  Ardis.  "  And  I  have  considered  every  possible  thing 
that  could  be  done  for  Roger.  A  certificate  of  character 
could  be  sent  to  the  postmaster  who  is  interested  in  him, 
but  Roger  is  far  away  from  Breeville  now,  and  I  doubt 
if  such  a  paper  can  be  of  any  use ;  and  what  Dr.  Lester 
has  already  written  ought  to  be  sufficient  if  his  letter  could 
be  made  use  of.  But  no  trust  can  be  put  in  this,  and  we 
must  go  down  to  him." 


228  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  We !     Who?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  I  for  one,"  said  Ardis.  "  It  will  be  perfectly  useless 
to  try  to  dissuade  me.  I  could  not  stay  here  and  feel 
that  people  were  making  mistakes,  or  giving  up  when  they 
should  go  on  and  on  and  on!  If  I  can't  do  things  I  can 
see  that  things  are  done.  Dr.  Lester  will  go  with  me,  I 
am  sure.  But  he  is  not  enough — I  want  a  lady  with  me. 
I  want  you  two  to  go.  Don't  look  so  amazed!  Don't 
say  a  thing  until  I  have  explained !  It  will  be  a  very  good 
thing  for  you  to  go  South  this  time  of  the  year,  and  you 
have  had  no  vacation.  I  must  pay  all  expenses  because 
it  is  my  affair.  Oh,  my  dear  friends,  I  do  so  want  you 
to  go  with  me!  "  And  she  laid  a  hand  upon  each  of  them. 

"Go?     Of  course  we  will  go!  "  sobbed  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  My  dear  Ardis,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  and  although  he 
did  not  sob,  his  voice  was  husky,  "  we  would  go  to  the  ends 
of  the  earth  with  you,  if  our  going  could  be  of  the  least 
benefit;  but  I  do  not  think  that  a  journey  to  Georgia  by 
us  three  will  be  of  any  use  whatever.  What  is  done 
should  be  done  promptly  and  instantly.  It  is  a  long 
journey,  and  after  we  were  there  it  might  be  a  good  while 
before  we  would  know  what  to  do,  or  could  do  it.  And, 
besides,  this  sort  of  thing  will  probably  cost  more  than 
you  suppose ;  and  although  we  would  not  think  for  an  in- 
stant of  expense  at  such  a  time  if  we  had  the  money,  the 
fact  is  that  we  haven't  it,  and  it  would  not  be  right  for 
you  to  furnish  it." 

"  Please  don't  talk  in  that  way!  "  cried  Ardis.  "Those 
things  are  trifles  and  ought  not  to  be  considered!  If  any- 
thing can  be  instantly  done  for  Roger,  let  it  be  done. 
Write,  telegraph — anything !  But  that  must  not  interfere 
with  our  going  to  him ;  and  I  do  not  believe  that  we  shall 
necessarily  be  too  late.  Roger  is  quick-witted,  and  can 
ride  as  far  and  as  well  as  any  man,  and  with  the  start  that 


ARD1S  CLA  VERDEN.  229 

he  has  had  it  will  not  be  easy  for  the  vigilance  com- 
mittee to  come  up  with  him.  If  he  can  reach  Atlanta,  or 
any  large  place,  it  is  likely  he  will  be  lodged  in  jail,  and 
perhaps  that  is  the  best  thing  that  can  happen  to  him ; 
and  when  we  get  there  it  will  all  be  right.  But,  whatever 
happens,  go  I  must!  And  you  two  must  go  with  me! 
That  is  what  I  was  thinking  about  during  dinner,  and  I 
fully  decided  it  before  I  left  the  table.  Don't  talk  about 
money.  I  wouldn't  allow  you  to  spend  it  if  you  had  it. 
That  is  a  thing  of  no  account." 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  looked  at  each  other.  "All 
right,  Ardis !  "  said  Harry  Chiverley.  "  We  will  stand  by 
you  and  we  will  do  whatever  you  say.  You  shall  never 
think  that  misfortune  came  to  you  because  these  two 
friends  failed  you.  Now  what  is  to  be  done?  And 
when?" 

"  I  have  telegraphed  Dr.  Lester,"  said  Ardis,  "  that  I 
shall  be  at  Woodbridge  Station  to-morrow  afternoon." 

"Woodbridge  Station?"  repeated  both  the  Chiverleys. 

"  Yes,"  said  Ardis,  "  that  is  a  railroad  station  about  six 
miles  this  side  of  Bolton.  And  now  I  will  explain  to  you 
the  whole  of  my  plan.  I  do  not  wish  my  father  to  know 
anything  of  this  expedition.  In  the  first  place  it  would 
dreadfully  worry  him,  and  in  the  second  place  he  would 
insist  upon  going  with  us ;  and  most  positively  that  must 
not  be.  The  one  thing  father  has  to  avoid  is  exposure  in 
the  winter-time.  I  shall  write  to  him  that  I  have  gone  on 
a  short  tour  with  you  to  the  South,  and  that  we  shall  stop 
at  Bolton  on  our  return.  I  must  see  Dr.  Lester.  And  he 
lives  not  much  further  from  Woodbridge  than  from  Bolton. 
I  wish  to  pass  through  Bolton  unobserved,  and  if  the 
doctor  should  meet  me  there  it  might  attract  attention. 
It  would  never  do  for  my  father  to  know  that  I  had  passed 
through  Bolton  without  stopping.  I  fully  expect  the 


230  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

doctor  to  go  South  with  us,  and  I  must  send  him  another 
telegram  to  that  effect." 

"And  when  must  we  start  to  do  all  this?"  asked  Mrs. 
Chiverley. 

"  At  twelve  o'clock  to-night,"  said  Ardis,  "  and  we  shall 
reach  Woodbridge  to-morrow  afternoon." 

At  this  statement  Mr.  Chiverley  pushed  back  his  chair 
with  a  start,  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  opened  her  eyes  very 
wide.  "  The  dishes  are  not  even  washed !  "  she  exclaimed. 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Chiverley,"  said  Ardis,  "  if  we  do  not 
start  to-night,  we  lose  a  whole  day.  And  there  is  plenty 
of  time  to  get  ready.  It  is  barely  eight  o'clock,  and  that 
gives  us  over  three  hours  before  we  need  leave  this  house, 
and  that  is  quite  time  enough  for  everything." 

"  We  shall  have  to  skip  around  in  a  lively  manner," 
said  Harry  Chiverley,  "if  we  expect  to  take  a  midnight 
train." 

"  I  don't  think  we  shall  have,  to  skip  much,"  said  Ardis, 
"if  we  go  to  work  systematically.  In  the  first  place  I 
shall  ask  you,  Mr.  Chiverley,  to  go  out  and  send  a  tele- 
gram for  me  to  Dr.  Lester.  I  want  to  tell  him  to  meet 
us  at  Woodbridge  prepared  to  go  South  with  us.  And 
while  you  are  out  you  can  buy  our  tickets.  I  think  it  will 
be  better  for  us  to  go  straight  to  Atlanta ;  and  if  Roger 
has  not  reached  there  when  we  arrive,  we  can  then  decide 
what  we  shall  do.  There  is  a  hotel  at  Atlanta  which  I 
have  heard  father  speak  of,  called  '  Didman's,'  and  you 
can  tell  the  janitor  to  forward  our  letters  to  that  hotel. 
Please  engage  berths  in  a  sleeping-car,  and  order  a  car- 
riage to  come  for  us  at  eleven.  That  will  give  us  a  margin 
if  we  are  not  quite  ready.  While  you  are  out,  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley and  I  will  wash  the  dishes  and  put  things  generally 
to  rights,  and  then  we  will  all  go  to  packing.  I  shall  take 
my  small  trunk,  and  twenty  minutes  will  be  enough  to  pack 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  231 

that.  Then  I  shall  have  time  to  write  a  letter  to  father 
which  we  can  post  at  the  station." 

"  Trunk !  "  cried  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  For  such  an  expedi- 
tion I  should  think  that  a  bundle  on  the  end  of  a  stick,  or 
at  most  a  small  hand-bag,  would  be  what  each  of  us  would 
want." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Ardis.  "  We  are  going  to  Atlanta, 
and  it  may  be  necessary,  for  Roger's  sake,  for  us  to  make 
a  good  appearance  there.  So  we  must  have  clothes,  and 
you  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  must  take  your  sketching  things." 

"Good!"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "And,  after  all,  it  is 
easier  to  pack  a  trunk  and  check  it  than  to  carry  a  bundle 
on  a  stick." 

"  And  just  as  cheap,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

When  Mr.  Chiverley  returned  from  his  errands  he 
stamped  his  feet  and  shook  himself  outside  the  studio  door 
before  he  entered.  "  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  as  he  came 
in,  "that  it  is  snowing  like  Sam  Hill?  " 

"  I  don't  know  how  Sam  Hill  snows,"  said  Ardis,  who 
was  busy  tying  up  a  portable  easel,  "  but  if  real  winter 
weather  is  coming  on  we  ought  to  be  very  glad  that  we 
are  going  South.  The  carriage  will  certainly  come,  snow 
or  no  snow,  I  suppose?  " 

"Oh,  yes;"  said  Mr.  Chiverley;  "there  will  be  no 
trouble  about  that.  But  while  I  was  out  I  remembered 
that  there  are  people  in  this  metropolis  who  ought  to  know 
of  my  departure.  It  does  not  do  for  a  man  of  business 
like  myself  to  vanish  suddenly  between  two  days  without 
letting  any  one  know  about  it." 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Ardis,  "  and  you  can  sit  down  and 
write  notes  to  all  of  them.  There  is  plenty  of  time,  for 
Mrs.  Chiverley  and  I  will  attend  to  the  packing." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  who  was  just  entering  the 
room  with  an  armful  of  miscellaneous  articles.  "It  is 


232  ARDIS  CLAFEKDEN. 

almost  done  now.  And  I  never  should  have  supposed 
that  I  could  have  received  notice  after  dinner  that  we 
were  to  close  up  this  establishment  and  go  South,  and 
that  at  half-past  nine  we  should  be  almost  ready  to  start!  " 

"  There  is  something  of  the  lively  bounce  in  it,  even  to 
me,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  And  do  you  think,  my  dear, 
that  it  would  be  well  to  write  to  Stolger  and  tell  him  he 
need  not  hurry  with  that  last  frame  I  ordered?  " 

"  By  no  means,"  cried  his  wife ;  "  that  would  be  a  very 
bad  precedent.  No  matter  how  long  we  stay  away,  you  may 
be  sure  the  frame  will  not  be  finished  when  we  get  back." 

"  I  am  very  glad,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley  when  Ardis  was  not 
present,  "  that  she  seems  to  keep  up  her  spirits  so  well." 

"  As  long  as  there  is  anything  for  her  to  do,"  said  Mrs. 
Chiverley,  "  her  spirits  will  be  all  right.  And  so  would 
mine  be  if  it  were  not  for  the  fear  that  no  matter  what  we 
do,  we  shall  be  too  late." 

"  Banish  such  thoughts,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  Now 
that  we  have  enlisted  in  this  cause,  do  not  let  us  have  a 
doubt  about  it.  It  is  plain  enough,"  he  continued,  '^that 
everything  has  been  settled  between  these  two  young 
people." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  I  have  long  supposed 
that." 

All  preparations  were  made  in  time  for  the  little  party 
to  partake  of  a  supper,  in  which  they  endeavored  to  eat  up 
everything  that  was  left  in  the  house ;  and  when  the  trunks 
had  been  carried  down,  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  was  shutting 
the  door  behind  her,  she  turned  and  said,  "  Good-by,  dear 
clock.  Don't  go  on  too  long  striking  to  yourself  by  day 
and  by  night." 

And  as  they  went  down-stairs  the  imaginative  little 
woman  could  hear  the  clock  say  in  clear,  sonorous  tones: 
"Good-by-dear-friends-the-best-of-luck-go-with  you!  " 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


233 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

WHEN,  on  the  next  morning,  the  Chiverleys  and  Ardis 
Claverden  reached  Washington,  they  found  that 
beautiful  city  as  white  as  its  monument,  and  the  snow  still 
falling.  They  continued  their  journey  and  were  much 
surprised,  to  find  the  snow  deeper  and  deeper  as  they 
progressed  southward ;  so  that  they  reached  Woodbridge 
Station  two  hours  behind  time. 

"  It  has  nearly  stopped  snowing,"  said  Ardis,  peering 
through  the  window  as  the  train  slowed  up,  "but  I  am 
dreadfully  afraid  Dr.  Lester  will  not  be  here !  However, 
I  ought  not  to  be,  for  he  is  a  man  to  be  trusted  in  any 
weather.  Yes,  there  he  is,  buttoned  up  to  the  chin !  And 
there  is  Cream-o'-Tartar,  harnessed  to  a  wagon.  I  never 
saw  that  horse  in  harness  before." 

The  train  had  scarcely  come  to  a  stop  before  Ardis  was 
out  on  the  platform,  and  in  a  moment  she  was  vigorously 
shaking  hands  with  Dr.  Lester. 

"  Are  you  ready  to  go  on  with  us?  "  she  asked.  "  You 
received  my  last  telegram?" 

Instead  of  answering  her  the  doctor  said:  "  Your  friends 
are  with  you,  I  suppose?" 

"  Yes,  here  they  are,"  said  Ardis,  as  the  Chiverleys  ap- 
peared on  the  platform. 

The  doctor  hastily  greeted  them,  and  said :  "  You  must 
all  get  off  the  train.  Let  me  help  you  bring  out  your 
hand  baggage.  If  you  have  trunks  it  will  be  better  to  let 
them  go  on." 


234  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  Ardis.  "What  does  this 
mean?  " 

"The  road  is  blocked  up  beyond  here.  The  train 
ahead  of  this  has  not  been  able  to  reach  Lynchburg.  It 
will  be  useless  to  stay  on  this  train ;  it  cannot  proceed 
much  further,  and  there  is  no  knowing  what  privations 
you  may  be  subjected  to." 

"But  what  shall  we  do?  Where  shall  we  go?"  ex- 
claimed Ardis,  while  the  Chiverleys  stood  in  silent  amaze- 
ment. 

"  I  have  provided  for  everything,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  the 
point  at  present  is  to  get  off  the  train.  I  asked  the 
station-master  to  detain  it  a  few  minutes." 

The  doctor's  manner  was  so  decided  that  no  further 
questions  were  asked,  and  the  travellers,  with  their  portable 
baggage,  soon  stood  on  the  station  platform. 

As  the  cars  began  slowly  and  laboriously  to  move  on, 
Ardis's  troubled  face  was  turned  toward  them  with  such 
an  anxious  and  wistful  air  that  it  might  have  been  sup- 
posed that  she  was  about  to  spring  back  upon  them  and 
press  on  at  all  hazards  toward  the  wilderness  of  Georgia. 
"  It  is  too  bad!  "  she  exclaimed.  "  I  believe  we  ought  to 
have  staid  on  the  train !  " 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  have  had  plenty  of  time  to 
consider  this  matter,  and  I  think  you  will  soon  agree  that 
I  have  acted  properly.  This  snow-storm  came  from  the 
southwest,  and  it  has  been  snowing  in  the  mountains  for 
forty-eight  hours,  and  the  tracks  are  entirely  blocked  up. 
I  have  seen  telegrams  from  various  points,  and  know  that 
travel  over  this  road  cannot  be  resumed  for  a  day,  perhaps 
two,  after  the  storm  ceases.  We  shall  lose  no  time  by 
waiting  until  the  road  is  open.  And  you  need  not  be 
anxious,  Miss  Ardis,  for  I  have  had  another  telegram  from 
my  postmaster,  and  he  tells  me  that  the  committee  has 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  235 

returned  unsuccessful.  The  telegram  ends  with:  'No 
news  of  your  friend.'  That  means,  of  course,  good  news." 

"  Good?  Yes,  perhaps  it  is,"  said  Ardis,  "  but  we  must 
get  to  him  as  soon  as  we  can !  " 

"Certainly,  certainly,"  said  the  doctor,  "we  shall  do 
that.  But  I  have  a  strong  hope  that  by  this  time  Roger 
is  in  Atlanta,  or  very  near  it.  And  when  he  is  there  he  is 
safe.  But  unless  we  have  direct  and  good  news  from 
him,  we  shall  go  on  as  soon  as  the  road  is  open." 

The  doctor's  words  brought  a  degree  of  comfort  to 
Ardis.  "  Well,"  she  said,  "  what  can't  be  done,  can't  be 
done.  But  as  soon  as  anything  can  be  done  we  must  do 
it.  And  now,  may  I  ask,  Dr.  Lester,  what  we  ourselves 
are  to  do?  I  do  not  wish  to  go  to  Bald  Hill." 

"  If  I  had  had  any  notion  of  that,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I 
should  have  allowed  you  to  proceed  to  Bolton  on  the  train." 

"  What  I  should  like  to  do,"  broke  in  Mr.  Chiverley, 
"  would  be  to  find  out  if  there  is  a  fire  in  that  little  station. 
If  this  is  your  '  sunny  South,'  give  me  the  shaded  North." 

By  the  glowing  station  stove  Dr.  Lester  explained  his 
plans.  "I  was  in  Bolton  last  night,"  he  said,  "and  I 
there  became  quite  sure  that  no  trains  would  cross  the 
mountains  to-day,  and  I  therefore  made  arrangements  to 
take  care  of  you  good  people  until  you  could  go  on.  I 
would  not  be  so  cruel  as  to  let  you  stay  on  the  train,  and 
perhaps  be  snowed  up  at  some  point  where  you  would  be 
half-frozen  and  find  nothing  to  eat." 

"  And  what  are  you  going  to  do?  "  asked  Ardis. 

"  I  am  going  to  take  you  home  with  me,"  said  the  doctor. 

At  this  announcement  Ardis  laughed,  and  Mr.  Chiverley, 
who  knew  the  doctor's  method  of  life,  and  had  smoked 
many  a  pipe  with  him  in  his  oddly-furnished  room,  could 
not  help  following  her  example.  Mrs.  Chiverley  did  not 
think  this  proceeding  very  polite,  but  she  was  so  pleased 


236  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

io  see  that  Ardis  could  laugh  that  she  abstained  from 
comment. 

"  You  need  not  suppose,"  said  Dr.  Lester,  smiling, 
"  that  I  am  going  to  shut  you  up  in  my  crowded  den. 
I  have  prepared  accommodations  for  you  in  the  old  house." 

"  Why,  that  was  burned  long  ago,"  said  Ardis.  "  I 
thought  it  was  nothing  but  ruins." 

"Ruins!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Chiverley.  "Will  that  be 
safe?" 

Mr.  Chiverley  was  delighted.  "  I  remember  that  place," 
he  said.  "  I  have  sketched  it  from  all  points.  It  will  be 
jolly  to  stay  there!  And  ruins,  my  dear,  are  ever  so  much 
safer  than  new  buildings.  New  houses  are  continually 
getting  destroyed  in  some  way  or  other,  but  ruins  last  for- 
ever." 

"  What  is  left  of  the  house,"  said  the  doctor,  "  is  per- 
fectly safe,  and  there  are  two  rooms  in  good  condition  on 
the  ground-floor.  But  I  am  not  going  to  say  anything 
more  about  my  hostelry.  There  is  no  rival  house,  and 
you  will  be  obliged  to  go  with  me." 

"  Go  with  you !  "  said  Ardis.  "  To  be  sure  we  will. 
And  what  are  we  to  go  in?  That  wagon?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor;  "  I  borrowed  that  spring  wagon 
of  Tommy  Deans,  and  I  reckon  old  Cream-o'-Tartar  will 
pull  us  through." 

"  It  might  have  been  better,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  as  he 
came  out  of  the  station  and  gazed  at  the  wide  expanse  of 
white  around  him,  "  if  you  had  borrowed  a  sleigh." 

"  Sleighs  are  very  uncommon  about  here,"  said  the 
doctor.  "  Our  snows  generally  last  so  short  a  time  that 
they  would  be  of  little  use.  But  wheels  will  go  through 
snow  better  than  through  deep  mud, 'and  I  think  we  shall 
get  on." 

The  party  was  soon  seated  in  the  open  wagon,  and  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  237 

journey  of  five  or  six  miles  was  begun.  They  could  not 
expect  to  travel  rapidly,  but  the  ground  was  frozen  be- 
neath the  snow,  and  many  parts  of  the  road  had  been 
partially  cleared  by  the  wind,  so  that  Cream-o'-Tartar  was 
able  to  jog  along  at  a  slow  trot.  On  the  way  the  doctor 
further  explained  some  of  his  arrangements. 

"  It  will  be  a  regular  picnic/'  he  said.  "  We  shall  have 
to  do  our  own  cooking,  and  everything.  I  have  sent  away 
the  colored  people  who  waited  on  me,  for  they  could  not 
be  trusted  to  keep  the  secret  of  my  entertaining  guests. 
The  snow  frightened  them,  and  they  were  glad  enough  to 
go  away  and  huddle  up  in  the  cabins  of  their  friends. 
I  went  to  Bolton  this  morning  and  laid  in  a  stock  of  pro- 
visions, and  so  I  think  we  shall  not  suffer." 

"  Suffer!  "  cried  Harry  Chiverley.  "  Not  to  be  thought 
of !  A  winter  picnic !  And  in  a  ruin !  This  is  truly  jolly ! 
Hurrah  for  the  sunny  South !  " 

"  Is  the  house  so  burned,"  asked  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  that 
there  can  be  no  further  fires?  " 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  the  doctor.  "  There  is  a  good  one  there 
now  if  it  has  not  burned  out.  I  will  engage  to  keep  you 
warm  enough,  though  in  other  ways  you  may  not  be  sat- 
isfied." 

"Given  food  and  warmth,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "we 
will  let  everything  else  go." 

It  had  now  stopped  snowing:  there  was  but  little 
wind;  and,  well  wrapped  up,  the  travellers  enjoyed  the 
keen,  frosty  air ;  and  had  they  been  bowling  along  in  a 
rleigh  with  jingling  bells  the  trip  would  have  been  a  de- 
lightful one.  Ploughing  slowly  through  the  snow  in  an 
open  spring  wagon  was  quite  another  thing.  But  they 
were  all  people  of  good  courage  and  willing  to  accommodate 
themselves  to  their  conditions. 

After  a  mile  or  two  they  turned  into  a  branch  road 


238  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

which  ran  in  the  direction  of  the  doctor's  house.  Their 
way  now  led  them  directly  through  a  forest  of  oaks  and 
chestnuts,  varied  at  intervals  by  low  growths  of  evergreens 
and  tall  pines.  The  scenes  through  which  they  were 
passing  were  of  such  rare  beauty  that  the  travellers  broke 
into  exclamations  of  delight.  The  ground  was  all  covered 
with  pure  unbroken  snow,  and  every  long  branch  of  ever- 
greens and  every  tree  and  bough  and  trailing  vine  bent  in 
graceful  curves  beneath  a  heavy  edging  of  sparkling  white- 
ness. Lines  of  pure  white  beauty  were  all  around  them, 
crossing,  interlacing,  and  standing  out  in  delicate  relief 
against  the  patches  of  blue  which  now  appeared  in  the 
western  sky.  The  sun,  well  down  toward  the  horizon, 
shed  over  everything  a  pale  rosy  light,  and  tipped,  be- 
sides, many  a  bending  branch  with  frosty  points  of  gem- 
like  color. 

"  I  have  imagined  fairy-land,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  but 
now  I  have  seen  it!  " 

Dr.  Lester  stopped  his  horse,  and  turning  around  he 
said:  "  If  there  are  any  fairies  who  live  in  these  woods  in 
the  winter,  I  wish  they  would  now  appear  and  show  me 
the  road.  No  vehicle  has  been  this  way  since  the  snow 
fell,  and  to  me  any  wide  space  between  the  trees  seems 
as  much  like  a  road  as  any  other  space." 

"Did  you  not  come  from  your  house  by  this  road?" 
asked  Ardis. 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor,  "  I  went  from  Woodbridge  to 
Bolton,  where  I  had  been  to  get  the  latest  news.  I  really 
do  not  know  whether  I  ought  to  go  to  the  right  of  that 
big  oak,  or  to  the  left." 

This  information  was  disconcerting,  and  the  Chiverleys 
forgot  the  beauty  of  the  scenery. 

"  Why,  doctor,"  cried  Ardis,  "  I  thought  you  knew  every 
foot  of  this  country!  " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  239 

"  So  I  do,"  he  answered,  "  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
but  a  country  covered  with  snow  is  a  new  thing  alto- 
gether. In  coming  through  these  woods  I  have  always 
followed  the  road.  But  where  is  the  road  now?  It  has 
disappeared  utterly." 

"  Perhaps  we  may  meet  some  one  who  will  show  us  the 
road,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

Ardis  shrugged  her  shoulders.  She  did  not  want  to 
meet  anybody;  and  the  doctor  said:  "There  is  not  a 
house  within  a  mile  of  us,  nor  a  foot-print  in  this  snow." 

Mr.  Chiverley  proposed  that  they  should  go  back  to  the 
station— they  could  find  the  way  there  by  their  own  tracks 
— and  then  proceed  to  the  doctor's  house  by  the  way  of 
Bolton. 

"Oh,  that  would  be  a  long,  long  journey,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  and  I  doubt  if  my  horse  would  be  equal  to  it. 
And,  besides,  we  do  not  wish  to  go  through  Bolton,  do 
we,  Miss  Ardis?" 

"  No,  indeed!  "  said  Ardis.  "  And  then  straight  past  the 
Bald  Hill  gate!  Oh,  never!  I  think  the  very  best  thing 
you  can  do,  doctor,  is  to  let  your  horse  find  the  road  for 
himself.  Of  course  he  knows  the  way  home,  and  he  is 
more  likely  to  keep  in  the  road  than  to  go  out  of  it." 

"  He  has  been  over  the  road  often  enough,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  but  if  he  is  as  bewildered  as  I  am  it  is  not  likely 
he  will  remember  anything  about  it  now." 

"  Let  us  try  him,"  said  Ardis.  "  There  is  nothing  better 
that  we  can  do." 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  doctor,  dropping  the  reins  on 
the  dash-board.  "  And  now,  Cream-o'-Tartar,  we  put  our 
destinies  into  your  hands,  or,  rather,  your  feet.  Get 
up!" 

The  horse  started,  and,  without  hesitation,  passed  to 
the  right  of  the  big  oak  tree. 


240  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  believe  he  is  on  the  road,"  exclaimed  Ardis.  "  See! 
There  is  a  perfect  avenue  stretching  itself  before  us." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  turning  his  head  from  side 
to  side.  "And  if  there  were  not  similar  avenues  extend- 
ing themselves  in  various  directions,  I  should  feel  certain 
that  we  were  on  the  road." 

Dr.  Lester,  who  was  not  used  to  driving,  nor  to  sitting 
cramped  up  in  a  vehicle,  now  drew  his  gloves  from  his 
half-frozen  fingers,  and  put  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  If 
his  horse  would  do  his  own  driving  he  was  more  than 
willing  to  let  him  do  it. 

"  This  is  one  of  my  oddest  experiences,"  said  Mr. 
Chiverley.  "  To  proceed  through  fairy-land  under  the 
sole  guidance  of  a  medicinal  preparation  is  something  to 
be  remembered!  " 

After  a  time  Mrs.  Chiverley  said :  "  It  begins  to  seem  to 
me  as  if  Cream-o'-Tartar  were  wandering  at  random 
among  the  trees." 

This  remark  was  emphasized  by  Cream-o'-Tartar  sud- 
denly taking  a  sharp  turn  to  the  right,  and  covering  the 
party  with  a  shower  of  snow  from  some  down-bent  ever- 
green branches.  There  was  a  startled  scream  from  the 
ladies,  and  Dr.  Lester,  his  eyes  blinded  with  snow,  shouted : 
"Whoa!" 

The  horse  stopped. 

"I  knew  it  would  be  so!"  cried  Mrs.  Chiverley.  "If 
you  leave  him  to  himself  he  will  dash  us  to  pieces." 

"I  don't  believe  it!"  said  Ardis.  "This  is  as  much 
like  a  road  as  any  other  place.  Let  him  go  on,  doctor." 

The  doctor  started  the  horse  and  on  they  went.  Trees 
stood  all  about  them,  on  either  side,  and  even  in  front; 
but  among  these  dark  trunks,  little  and  big,  without  strik- 
ing one  of  them,  Cream-o'-Tartar  slowly  made  his  way. 

The  sun  was  now  low  and  it  was  beginning  to  be  dusky. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  241 

The  doctor  remarked  that  the  moon  would  rise  in  a  couple 
of  hours,  but  this  did  not  appear  to  comfort  anybody. 

"  I  believe  this  horse  has  no  idea  where  he  is  going,  and 
is  walking  merely  to  keep  himself  warm,"  said  Mr.  Chiv- 
erley.  "  I  should  like  to  get  out  and  follow  his  example.'1 

"Don't  think  of  such  a  thing,  Harry!"  exclaimed  his 
wife.  "  You  will  get  your  feet  wet  and  soaked  and  per- 
haps frozen." 

"  And  cut  off,"  added  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  Thank  you. 
I  will  remain  in  the  wagon  with  alacrity." 

The  responsibility  of  the  comfort  and  perhaps  the 
safety  of  his  friends  began  to  press  upon  the  doctor.  It 
was  getting  dark,  and  the  situation  was  grave.  What  to  do 
the  doctor  did  not  know.  It  was  as  well  to  let  the  horse 
go  his  own  way  as  to  turn  him  in  another  direction.  All 
ways  seemed  equally  to  lead  into  the  heart  of  the  woods. 

Tears  were  in  Mrs.  Chiverley's  eyes,  but  she  turned  her 
face  away  from  Ardis.  Nothing  could  be  more  dreadful 
than  fairy-land!  Even  the  beauty  that  had  made  the 
present  scene  more  terrible  to  her.  There  was  no  beauty 
now ;  everything  was  cold,  pale,  spectral,  and  awful ! 

Even  the  courage  of  Ardis  began  to  give  way.  At  any 
moment  their  progress  might  be  stopped.  What  could 
they  do  for  a  fire?  What  could  they  do  for  anything? 
Would  it  be  possible  for  Dr.  Lester  to  procure  assistance? 

Cream-o'-Tartar  now  pulled  the  party  up  a  slight  ascent 
and  then  he  turned  into  an  open  space. 

"  A  clearing!  "  cried  Ardis.     "  Whose  can  it  be?  " 

"  Clearing !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor.  "  Do  you  see  that 
mass  of  trees  in  front  of  us?  That  is  where  I  live.  This 
is  the  high  road.  Cream-o' -Tartar  has  brought  us  through, 
without  making  a  mistake!  " 

"  Hurrah  for  the  good  old  physic!  "  cried  Mr.  Chiverley. 
And,  without  a  word,  his  wife  fell  crying  upon  Ardis' 
shoulder. 


242  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

T   COULD  not  have  supposed,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley, 

1  as  he  awkwardly  got  down  from  the  spring  wagon 
in  front  of  Dr.  Lester's  little  house,  "  that  my  legs  could 
get  themselves  so  uncommonly  stiff.  The  effects  of  semi- 
tropical  air  are  truly  wonderful !  But  I  thought  you  were 
going  to  take  us  to  those  ruins,  doctor.  Have  you  changed 
your  mind?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Dr.  Lester,  who  was  -  now  on  the 
ground.  "  But  you  must  first  come  in  here,  and  get  your- 
selves warm." 

The  party  were  soon  clustered  around  a  great  bed  of 
embers  in  the  fire-place.  An  armful  of  brushwood  upon 
these  soon  made  a  crackling  blaze ;  and  then  Dr.  Lester 
left  them  to  thaw,  as  he  termed  it,  while  he  went  over  to 
the  other  house  to  attend  to  the  fires  there. 

"  Don't  forget  dear  old  Cream-o'-Tartar !  "  cried  Ardis. 
"  Give  him  his  supper  before  you  do  anything  else.  I  wish 
I  had  a  pound  of  sugar  to  give  him,  to  show  my  gratitude. 
But  I  will  prove  that  some  other  time." 

Cream-o'-Tartar's  wants  were  soon  attended  to,  and  the 
party  around  the  fire  perceived  through  the  window  Dr. 
Lester,  hard  at  work  with  a  big  hoe,  making  a  path  through 
the  snow  from  his  door  to  the  remains  of  the  old  mansion- 
house. 

Mr.  Chiverley  seized  his  hat.  "  He  must  not  do  that 
all  by  himself/'  said  he ;  and  hurrying  out  of  the  door 
with  the  stiffness  entirely  departed  from  his  legs,  asked 
the  doctor  for  something  with  which  he  could  help  him. 

"  I  could  not  find  anything  but  this  old  hoe,"  said  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  243 

other,  "  but  if  you  choose  to  take  it,  I  will  go  in  and  build 
up  the  fires/' 

It  was  now  so  dark  that  Mr.  Chiverley  could  scarcely 
follow  the  footprints  which  the  doctor  had  made.  But  the 
path  was  finished  as  the  doctor  came  out,  and  then  the 
two  went  back  for  the  ladies. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  little  company,  preceded  by  the 
doctor  with  a  lantern,  reached  the  back  piazza  of  the  old 
house.  When  the  doctor  opened  the  door  they  entered 
a  large  kitchen  with  a  wood  fire  blazing  in  an  enormous 
fire-place. 

"  Here,"  said  Dr.  Lester,  "  is  where  we  shall  cook  and 
eat.  Next  to  this  is  what  used  to  be  the  dining-room. 
The  little  furniture  we  saved  from  the  fire  was  put  in 
there ;  and  in  a  closet  are  stored  away  a  lot  of  pillows  a  d 
blankets  and  sheets,  which  I  leave  to  you  ladies  to  make 
use  of.  There  is  a  small  room  opening  from  that  which 
my  uncle  used  as  a  study.  It  is  pretty  well  dismantled, 
for  I  have  taken  all  the  books  over  to  my  place.  But 
there  is  a  large  couch  there  on  which  Miss  Ardis  can  pos- 
sibly make  herself  comfortable.  My  accommodations  are 
pretty  rough,  but  I  think  you  will  be  better  off  here  than 
in  a  snowed-up  train." 

When  the  doctor  had  lighted  his  lamp  and  had  shown 
his  rooms,  his  guests  were  surprised  that  the  old  ruin 
should  still  contain  such  apartments. 

"  Pretty  shabby,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  occasionally  I 
have  had  some  one  here  to  sleep,  and  from  time  to  time 
I  have  put  the  doors  and  windows  in  order." 

"  I  call  this  truly  jolly,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  I  wonder, 
doctor,  that  you  do  not  come  over  here  and  live  yourself, 
and  have  three  rooms  instead  of  one." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  I  prefer  staying 
where  I  am.  My  room  is  large,  and  my  house  has  a  good 


244  ARDlS  CLAVERDEN. 

roof  to  it.  I  reserve  dilapidations  for  my  friends.  And 
now,  if  you  please,  we  will  go  to  work  and  get  our  supper." 

Four  persons  better  adapted  to  a  gypsy  style  of  house- 
keeping could  scarcely  have  been  found.  The  doctor  had 
laid  in  a  good  supply  of  provisions.  The  coffee  was  soon 
boiling,  the  ham  frizzling,  bread  toasting,  and  eggs  slip- 
ping from  shell  to  pan.  Mrs.  Chiverley  was  charmed  with 
the  great  open  fire-place  and  the  iron  cranes  on  which  to 
hang  pots. 

"A  true  artist,"  she  said,  "should  always  cook  at  a  fire 
like  this." 

The  table  was  spread  with  the  doctor's  stock  of  crockery, 
and  though  the  gentlemen  sat  upon  a  barrel  supported  by 
two  boxes,  no  cooks  ever  ate  a  meal  of  their  own  cooking 
with  more  relish,  nor  were  louder  in  its  praises. 

After  supper  a  great  fire  was  built  up,  and  the  little 
party  gathered  around  it,  and  the  doctor  went  over  to  his 
house,  quickly  returning  with  a  demijohn  and  a  small  jar. 

"A  ruin  like  this,"  said  he,  "is  incomplete  without 
spirits,  and  I  have  here  some  old  peach  brandy,  which 
when  I  pull  out  this  cork  will  fill  these  gloomy  halls  with 
the  invisible  ghosts  of  departed  fruit." 

At  this  sentiment  there  was  a  general  hand-clapping, 
and  Mrs.  Chiverley  wanted  to  know  what  was  in  the  jar. 

"  Honey,"  said  the  doctor. 

"And  what  do  you  do  with  honey?  "  she  asked. 

'•"  I  will  show  you,"  was  the  answer.  The  doctor  there- 
upon produced  four  glasses,  and  put  into  each  a  small 
quantity  of  the  liquid  honey.  Then  he  poured  in  peach 
brandy  and  stirred  up  the  mixture.  "Now,"  said  he, 
"  you  shall  taste  our  celebrated  '  peach  and  honey,'  which 
the  present  generation  does  not  know  much  about,  but 
which,  better  than  anything  else,  will  keep  off  the  effects 
of  a  long  drive  through  the  snow  and  cold." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


245 


"  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  when  he  had  taken  a  few- 
sips,  "  I  now  begin  to  feel  as  if  there  was  such  a  thing  as 
the  sunny  South." 

The  feelings  of  vexation  and  disappointment  which  this 
enforced  stoppage  had  caused  to  Ardis  had  now  nearly 
disappeared.  The  doctor  seemed  so  hopeful  about  Roger 
and  in  such  good  spirits  that  her  natural  disposition  to 
look  upon  the  better  side  of  things  was  encouraged.  Had 
she  known  that  the  doctor's  pleasure  in  having  her  for  a 
guest,  in  ministering  to  her  wants,  and  in  any  way  pro  - 
moting  her  comfort,  would  have  put  him  in  good  spirits, 
no  matter  what  damages  were  threatening  other  people, 
she  might  not  have  been  so  much  encouraged. 

When  the  ladies  had  arranged  the  bedrooms,  and  the 
gentlemen  had  had  a  smoke  before  the  kitchen  fire,  the 
doctor  bade  his  guests  good-night,  although  it  was  still  early 
in  the  evening.  When  he  had  gone,  the  others  remained 
around  the  hearth,  unwilling  to  leave  the  glowing  blaze. 
Suddenly  Ardis  sprang  to  her  feet  and  put  out  the  light. 

"  Why  did  you  do  that?  "  exclaimed  the  Chiverleys  in  a 
breath. 

"  Hush !  "  said  Ardis.  "  I  saw  through  the  window  two 
men  ride  up  to  the  doctor's  door.  It  would  never  do  for 
anybody  to  see  a  light  in  here.  We  should  have  thought 
of  that  and  have  closed  the  shutters,  if  there  are  any." 

The  doctor  was  astonished  and  somewhat  alarmed  when 
he  opened  his  door,  and  the  light  of  his  lamp  fell  upon 
Messrs.  Skitt  and  Cruppledean. 

"You  didn't  expect  any  visitors  on  a  night  like  this!  " 
cried  Skitt.  "  But  it  is  jolly  being  out  with  the  snow,  and 
the  moon,  and  all  that." 

"  Come  in,  gentlemen,  come  in,"  said  the  doctor,  en- 
deavoring to  conceal  his  anxiety. 

"  Before  we  go  in,"  said  Cruppledean,  "  I  want  to  tell 


246  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

you,  doctor,  that  there  is  somebody  in  that  old  house. 
I  saw  a  light  there,  and  it  was  suddenly  put  out.  That 
sort  of  thing  means  no  good,  and  if  you  will  give  us  each 
a  club  we'll  go  over  with  you  and  help  you  rout  out  the 
beggars — tramps  most  likely." 

"Come  in,  gentlemen,"  cried  the  doctor  earnestly. 
"  There  are  no  tramps  hereabouts,  and  if  any  unfortunates 
have  taken  refuge  in  those  ruins,  I  shall  not  disturb  them 
to-night." 

"Very  good  of  you,"  said  Cruppledean,  reluctantly 
entering.  "And  most  likely  they'll  break  into  your  house 
to-night." 

"No  fear  of  that!"  said  the  doctor,  closing  the  door. 
"  Sit  down,  gentlemen,  and  warm  your  toes.  Nobody  will 
take  the  trouble  to  break  into  my  house." 

"That  may  be,"  growled  Cruppledean,  "but  if  I  were 
in  your  place  I  wouldn't  go  to  bed  until  I  had  found  out 
who  the  sneaking  rascals  are." 

"  The  way  to  properly  put  yourself  in  my  place,"  said 
the  doctor,  smiling  "  is  to  sit  down,  and  take  a  pipe." 

The  three  men  sat  down  before  the  fire,  but  Crupple- 
dean did  not  seem  to  enjoy  it.  His  features  wore  an  air 
of  discontent,  and  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees  he  puffed 
vigorously  at  his  pipe  and  said  nothing. 

"Doctor,  when  did  you  hear  from  Dunworth?"  asked 
Skitt.  "  You  seem  to  be  the  only  person  with  whom  he 
has  any  communication." 

"The  last  letter  I  received  from  him,"  said  the  doctor, 
"was  the  one  of  which  I  spoke  to  you.  I  judged  from 
that,  as  you  may  remember,  that  it  was  his  intention  soon 
to  return." 

"  I  wish  he  would  do  it,"  said  Skitt.  "  Our  meals  are 
getting  worse  and  worse,  and  we  can't  stand  it,  you  know. 
If  Dunworth  doesn't  turn  up  soon,  I  shall  get  old  Miss 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  247 

Airpenny  to  corae  back  to  us.  And  if  old  Miss  Airpenny 
comes  the  servants  vow  they  will  go.  And  then  we'll  have 
to  get  in  a  new  lot.  And  there's  no  knowing  what  sort 
they'll  be — thieves,  most  likely.  When  you  write  to  Dun- 
worth,  I  wish  you'd  tell  him  that." 

The  doctor  smiled,  but  before  he  could  answer  Crup- 
pledean  broke  his  silence.  "  Now  really,  doctor,"  he  said, 
"  I  don't  think  you  are  acting  fair  by  your  neighbors. 
"  It's  not  half  an  hour's  walk  from  here  to  Dunworth's, 
and  the  tramps  that  take  up  their  lodgings  in  your  old 
ruins  are  more  likely  to  go  to  our  place  to  do  the  stealing 
than  to  do  it  here.  Come,  now,  let's  each  of  us  take  a 
stick  of  this  firewood  and  go  there  and  rout  them  out." 
And  he  pushed  back  his  chair. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  the  doctor.  "  If  Judas  Iscariot  and  Bill 
Sykes  were  in  that  house,  I  would  not  rout  them  out  on 
a  night  like  this." 

Cruppledean  gave  an  unintelligible  growl,  pulled  up  his 
chair  to  the  fire,  and  fell  again  to  puffing  in  silence. 

Skitt  now  began  to  send  more  messages  to  Dunworth, 
and  these  became  so  many  and  so  varied  that  the  doctor 
expostulated. 

"  If  I  go  into  all  those  particulars,"  he  said,  "  I  shall 
have  to  send  him  a  treatise." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  believe  you'll  mind  telling  him  all  that, 
doctor,"  said  Skitt.  "  It  runs  along  together,  you  know, 
and  he  ought  to  know  it." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Cruppledean,  suddenly,  "  one  thing  you 
really  should  do.  You  ought  to  go  over  there  and  see  if 
those  beggars  have  any  matches,  about  them.  If  you 
don't  take  away  their  matches,  as  like  as  not  they'll  set  fire 
to  that  old  place,  and  burn  down  your  house  as  well." 

"  I  am  not  afraid,"  said  the  doctor.  "  That  old  house 
has  been  burned  as  much  as  it  ever  will  be." 


248  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Well,  then,"  cried  Cruppledean,  impatiently,  "  may  a 
man  go  over  there  and  take  a  look  at  the  rascals  so  that 
he'll  know  them  if  he  sees  them  prowling  about  his  place? 
I  am  not  afraid  to  go  by  myself." 

Skitt  now  arose.  "  Come  on,  Cruppledean,"  he  said. 
"  It  is  time  for  us  to  go  home.  Don't  bother  your  head 
about  tramps.  And  it's  as  like  as  not  you  didn't  see  a 
light  over  there,  anyway." 

"Yes,  I  did,"  said  Cruppledean,  doggedly,  as  he  went 
out  to  his  horse. 

The  doctor  stood  at  his  door  until  the  two  men  had 
ridden  out  of  the  yard ;  and  then  he  went  back  to  his  fire. 

When  they  were  out  on  the  road  Cruppledean  turned 
to  his  companion.  "  Skitt,"  said  he,  "  let's  ride  back  to 
the  other  side  of  that  old  house,  and  see  who  is  in  there." 

"  Come  on,"  said  his  companion,  "  and  let  the  old  house 
alone.  Now,  really,  Cruppledean,  haven't  you  any  sense 
in  your  skull?  Couldn't  you  see  that  Dr.  Lester  knew 
who  was  in  that  house?  " 

"Why  didn't  he  say  so,  then?"  said  Cruppledean. 

Skitt  laughed.  "  Because  he  didn't  want  anybody  else 
to  know.  But  I  know." 

"  Really?  "  cried  Cruppledean. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  other.  "  I  could  see  it  by  the  way  the 
doctor  spoke  and  acted.  It's  Dunworth!  " 

"  Dunworth !  "  cried  the  other.     "  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  mean,"  said  Skitt,  "  that  he  has  never  been  away  at 
all,  but  has  been  hiding  in  that  house  all  the  time,  and 
Dr.  Lester  has  been  keeping  him  posted  about  what  has 
been  going  on.  That  is  the  reason  I  sent  him  all  those 
messages.  Of  course  I  didn't  expect  the  doctor  to  write 
them." 

Cruppledean  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  with 
such  vigor  and  suddenness  that  his  horse  started.  "  This 


ARDIS   CLA  VRRDEV, 


249 


is  a  go! "  he  cried.  "  Now,  look  here,  Skitt,  isn't  this  just 
like  these  Americans?" 

"Well,"  said  Skitt,  "there  are  other  people  besides 
Americans  who  do  that  sort  of  thing.  I  have  read  of  a 
man  in  London  who  went  away  from  his  wife  and  family, 
and  wasn't  heard  of  for  twenty  years ;  and  all  that  time 
he  was  living  in  a  house  just  across  the  street,  and  watch- 
ing his  family  through  a  telescope." 

"Do  you  suppose  Dunworth  is  doing  that?"  asked 
Cruppledean,  angrily. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Skitt;  "he  isn't  that  kind,  and  I  don't 
believe  he  will  stay  away  for  twenty  years,  either.  I  think 
what  I  said  about  letting  the  servants  go  and  filling  up 
the  house  with  a  pack  of  thieves  will  fetch  him !  " 

Cruppledean  was  now  highly  amused.  "  Do  you  know 
what  I've  a  mind  to  do?  "  he  cried.  "  To-morrow  I'll  ride 
over  there,  going  round  by  the  back  where  the  doctor 
won't  see  me,  and  I'll  walk  straight  into  that  old  house 
without  knocking,  and  I'll  say  to  him:  *  Mr.  Dunworth, 
would  you  bring  the  young  cattle  up  to  the  cow-yard  so 
that  they  can  all  be  fed  together  in  this  weather,  or  do  you 
wish  to  still  keep  them  apart?'  It'll  be  great  fun  to  see 
how  he  looks  when  I  say  that  to  him,  just  as  if  I  had  known 
all  along  that  he  was  there." 

"If  you  know  what's  good  for  you,"  said  Skitt,  "you'll 
let  Dunworth  alone.  And,  what's  more,  don't  let  us  say 
a  word  to  Parchester  about  this.  He  has  been  putting  on 
airs  lately,  keeping  an  eye  on  things  as  if  he  expected  to 
come  into  the  property.  And  it  will  be  great  fun  when 
he  finds  out  that  all  the  time  Dunworth  has  been  keeping 
an  eye  on  him." 

"It's  larks!"  cried  Cruppledean.  "And  we'll  shut  up 
like  oysters  before  old  Parch!  " 

For  an  hour  Dr.  Lester  sat  by  his  fire,  but  steadily  look- 


250  ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 

ing  out  of  the  window  over  the  snow-covered  ground  to 
the  back  of  the  old  house,  for  he  had  suspicions  concern- 
ing the  young  student  of  farming.  When  he  felt  satisfied 
that  Cruppledean  would  not  come  back  he  went  to  bed. 

This  act  had  been  performed  long  before  by  his  guests 
without  any  light  except  that  afforded  by  the  moon. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  251 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  next  morning  the  sky  was  bright,  the  sun  was 
warm,  and  there  was  a  great  thaw.  Everywhere  the 
snow  was  softening  and  melting  and  dripping,  and  trick- 
ling away  in  little  streams  wherever  it  could  find  a  channel. 
It  was  like  early  spring  to  Mr.  Chiverley,  who  was  not 
familiar  with  the  South  in  winter,  and  he  stood  at  the  back 
door  of  the  house  and  sniffed  the  mild  moist  air.  When 
Dr.  Lester  came  over  to  breakfast  he  did  not  express 
much  gratification. 

"  It  means  mud  about  a  foot  deep,"  he  said,  "and  great 
discomfort  in  getting  about,  and  after  the  roads  have  all 
been  cut  up  into  deep  ruts  and  holes,  they  will  be  frozen 
hard,  and  one  might  as  well  travel  over  an  upturned  curry- 
comb. Our  winters  are  very  fickle." 

"Do  not  call  this  winter,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "A 
woman  is  as  old  as  she  looks,  and  the  season  is  what  it 
seems.  Please  do  not  disturb  that  philosophy.  I  am 
expecting  the  smell  of  violets  when  the  snow  melts  from 
that  little  mound." 

"  If  the  smell  of  fried  ham  does  not  prove  attractive 
enough  to  make  you  come  in,"  cried  Mrs.  Chiverley, 
"please  close  the  door." 

Very  soon  after  breakfast  Dr.  Lester  mounted  Cream- 
o'-Tartar,  and  rode  to  Bolton  to  find  if  there  was  any 
chance  of  the  travellers  continuing  their  journey  that  after- 
noon. He  came  back  with  the  information  that  the  roads 
over  the  mountains  were  still  blocked,  but  it  was  confi- 
dently expected  that  trains  would  go  through  the  next  day. 


252  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Ardis ;  "  we  will  go  over  to  Wood- 
bridge  Station  to-morrow,  and  if  the  train  comes  we  will 
take  it.  And  remember,  doctor,  that  you  are  to  be  one 
of  the  party.  Positively  we  cannot  go  without  you !  " 

To  be  shut  up  in  a  kitchen  of  a  half-burned  house  on  a 
fine,  bright  day  like  this  was  irksome  to  the  Chiverleys; 
but  walking  was  almost  an  impossibility,  and  it  was,  be- 
sides, desirable  that  they  should  not  show  themselves. 
The  doctor  brought  over  a  lot  of  old  novels,  and  with 
these  they  quieted  their  impatient  souls. 

Ardis  did  not  care  to  read,  and  she  spent  most  of  the 
morning  looking  out  of  the  window.  It  might  be  a  strange 
thing  for  her  friends  to  be  shut  up  in  this  place,  but  she 
felt  that  it  was  a  very  much  stranger  thing  for  her  to  be 
here !  But  little  more  than  a  mile  away  in  a  straight  line, 
though  much  further  by  the  road,  a  piece  of  rising  ground 
was  topped  by  a  mass  of  trees,  their  bare  topmost  branches 
showing  plainly  against  the  sky.  That  was  Bald  Hill. 
There  was  her  home;  there  was  her  father;  here  was  she. 
Tears  filled  her  eyes  as  her  soul  reached  out  itself  toward 
her  father.  And  yet  if  she  went  to  him  she  must  give  up 
the  enterprise  of  love  and  duty  which  she  had  undertaken. 
She  did  not  fear  that  her  father  would  forbid  the  continu- 
ance of  her  journey,  but  she  knew  that  when  he  under- 
stood its  object  he  would  go  with  her.  This  must  not  be. 

In  the  afternoon  she  saw  the  doctor  standing  in  the  open 
door;  and,  after  looking  out  to  see  that  no  one  was  on  the 
road,  she  wrapped  herself  in  a  shawl  and  ran  over  to  him. 

"  There  is  no  one  to  see  me,"  she  said,  "  and  if  there 
were  I  don't  believe  I  should  be  recognized  with  this  shawl 
over  my  head.  People  might  think  I  was  Betty,  your 
cook." 

The  doctor  smiled.  "  Or  a  wagon-load  of  corn  fodder," 
he  said.  "  You  look  as  much  like  one  as  the  other." 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  253 

Arclis  laughed,  and  began  to  walk  round  the  room. 

"Do  you  remember,  doctor,"  she  said,  "how  I  used  to 
go  about  this  room  when  I  was  a  little  girl?  And  the 
room  does  not  seem  to  have  changed  at  all,  except  that 
some  things  look  a  little  older." 

"Alas!  "  said  the  doctor,  "some  things  will  grow  old." 

Probably  he  would  have  moralized  a  little  more  had  not 
Ardis  uttered  a  sudden  exclamation.  She  had  stopped 
before  a  pair  of  small  top  boots  which  hung  against  the 
wall,  well  worn  and  somewhat  dusty. 

"  Why,  doctor !  "  cried  Ardis,  "  I  positively  believe  that 
these  are  my  riding-boots!  " 

A  blush  so  deep  that  it  showed  itself  through  his  tanned 
and  weather-beaten  skin  rose  to  the  doctor's  face,  but  he 
was  behind  Ardis,  and  she  did  not  see  it.  "  Yes,"  he  said, 
coming  forward,  "  they  are  your  boots.  Old  Miles,  who 
had  them  to  mend,  brought  them  here  one  day  and  asked 
me  to  carry  them  ever  to  you,  he  having  one  of  his  rheu- 
matic fits ;  but  the  patches  he  had  put  over  those  cracked 
places  were  so  rough  and  coarse  I  did  not  believe  that 
you  would  wear  the  boots,  and  I  had  intended  doctoring 
them  a  little  myself  before  I  took  them  to  you." 

"  You !  "  exclaimed  Ardis.     "  You  mend  my  boots !  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  with  a  constrained  laugh.  "I 
like  that  sort  of  work.  With  an  adhesive  substance  I 
have  I  can  put  a  patch  on  a  boot  so  that  it  will  scarcely 
be  noticed." 

"  I  am  very  glad  you  did  not  do  it,"  said  Ardis.  "  I 
would  not  like  to  think  of  such  a  thing  as  your  mending 
my  boots.  Those  patches  are  quite  good  enough  for  the 
country  in  bad  weather;"  and  then  continued,  "by  the 
way,  doctor,  I  should  like  to  have  those  boots  now.  They 
are  good  and  thick  and  will  keep  my  feet  dry  in  this 
weather  much  better  than  those  I  have  on." 


254  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  You  should  stay  in  the  house  as  much  as  you  can, 
Miss  Ardis,"  said  the  doctor,  "  if  you  don't  want  your 
friends  to  stop  here  and  call  on  you.  But  if  you  are  dis- 
creet you  can  take  a  little  fresh  air  without  being  noticed, 
and  I  will  bring  the  boots  over  to  you." 

Ardis  soon  ran  back  to  the  old  house,  and  when  she 
had  gone  the  doctor  took  down  the  boots,  brushed  off  the 
dust,  and  then  proceeded  to  carefully  anoint  them  with  a 
waterproof  preparation  from  a  stone  bottle.  As  he  sat  at 
work  rubbing  the  oily  fluid  into  the  pores  of  the  leather 
with  a  patience  and  intelligence  which  could  not  be  ex- 
pected of  any  servant  of  that  region  he  remembered  his 
curious  thrill  of  pleasure  when  the  old,  rheumatic  cobbler 
put  those  little  boots  into  his  hands.  He  also  called  to  mind 
how  he  had  afterward  looked  with  indignation  at  the  coarse 
patches,  and  how  the  happy  thought  had  come  to  him  that 
he  would  himself  cover  with  smooth,  neatly  fitting  bits  of 
leather  these  cracks  in  the  boots  of  Ardis ;  how  he  had 
paid  the  old  cobbler  and  had  hung  them  up  in  his  room ; 
how  day  after  day  he  had  looked  on  them  and  resolved 
that  on  the  morrow  he  would  begin  the  true  labor  of  love, 
and  that,  although  she  would  never  know  it,  he  would  with 
his  own  hands  do  something  that  would  be  of  service  to 
Ardis.  He  remembered,  too,  how  he  never  had  begun 
his  task,  knowing  that  when  the  boots  had  been  put  in 
proper  order  they  ought  to  be  returned  to  their  owner  and 
feeling  each  day  more  and  more  reluctant  to  part  with 
them.  And  now  Ardis  had  seen  them,  had  suspected 
nothing,  and  was  going  to  tramp  about  in  them  a  little  at 
the  back  of  the  old  house,  and  if  not  one  drop  of  snow- 
water penetrated  through  the  leather  it  would  be  due  to 
the  loving  earnestness  with  which  he  rubbed  in  that  com- 
pound. 

Ardis  thought  that  the  doctor  was  a  long  time  coming 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


»55 


with  the  boots;  but  after  he  had  brought  them  she  en- 
joyed her  tramp  down  a  smooth  walk  of  unbroken  snow  in 
the  garden  of  the  old  house,  made  secure  from  observa- 
tion by  a  hedge  of  evergreens ;  and  not  a  drop  of  snow 
water  came  through  the  leather  to  her  feet.  And  when 
she  came  in  she  lent  the  boots  to  Mrs.  Chiverley,  who 
was  well  pleased  to  lay  by  her  novel  for  a  breath  of  outer 
air. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  that  night  when  the  little  party  re- 
tired to  their  rooms,  but  even  then  Ardis  did  not  go  to 
bed.  She  sat  at  her  window  looking  out  over  the  land- 
scape. The  moon,  somewhat  past  the  full,  was  shining 
brightly  and  far  away  lay  Bald  Hill,  with  its  fringe  of  tree- 
tops  against  the  sky. 

For  half  an  hour  she  sat  and  looked  out.  Then  she 
got  up  and  listened.  All  was  quiet  in  the  old  house. 
She  looked  across  the  yard;  the  doctor's  little  home  was 
dark.  Now  she  began  to  busy  herself.  The  room  was 
lighted  only  by  the  moon  and  by  a  faint  glow  of  embers 
from  the  hearth,  but  she  was  able  to  find  what  sjiie  wanted. 
She  took  off  her  shoes,  and  replaced  them  with  the  riding 
boots  which  the  doctor  had  so  carefully  anointed;  she 
put  on  a  thick  jacket,  and  over  that  a  dark  waterproof, 
the  hood  of  which  enveloped  her  head.  Then  she  stepped 
quietly  to  the  window,  raised  it,  looked  this  way  and  that, 
and,  with  an  ease  that  showed  that  this  was  not  the  first 
time  in  her  life  that  she  had  done  such  a  thing,  she  got  out 
of  the  window,  dropping  gently  upon  the  snow,  but  with 
sufficient  force  to  make  a  light  crushing  sound.  Fearful 
that  this  might  have  awakened  the  Chiverleys  she  stood 
still  for  a  moment  and  listened.  But  hearing  nothing  to 
indicate  that  the  slumber  of  her  friends  had  been  disturbed 
she  quietly  pulled  down  the  window  and  made  her  way 
across  the  yard,  keeping  as  far  from  the  doctor's  house 


256  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

as  possible.  When  she  reached  the  road  she  crossed  it, 
and  climbed  the  fence  on  the  other  side,  and  then  started 
straight  across  the  fields  toward  Bald  Hill.  The  night 
was  cold  and  frosty,  and  the  snow  which  had  been  melt- 
ing all  day  was  covered  with  a  crust  which,  however,  was 
not  strong  enough  to  bear  the  weight  of  Ardis,  whose  feet 
broke  through  it  at  every  step.  But  it  was  not  deep,  and 
on  the  ridges  and  higher  portions  of  the  field,  which  had 
lain  all  day  in  the  sunshine,  the  snow  was  almost  gone, 
although  the  tangled  dead  grass  and  the  stubble  often 
made  her  high  boots  of  as  much  service  to  her  here  as  in 
the  snow. 

Straight  on  she  went  toward  the  rising  ground  on  which 
stood  her  home.  When  she  came  to  a  fence  she  climbed 
it ;  in  the  lower  places  where  the  snow  was  deepest  she 
crushed  boldly  through  it.  Once  she  came  to  a  deep  gully 
and  felt  obliged  to  go  around  the  head  of  it,  but  reaching 
another  and  a  shallower  one,  she  stopped  for  a  moment 
and  seeing  how  far  it  extended  on  either  hand  she  gath- 
ered her  waterproof  tightly  about  her,  slid  to  the  bottom, 
plunging  into  snow  which  came  nearly  to  the  top  of  her 
boots,  and  then  briskly  clambered  up  the  opposite  bank, 
finding  it  necessary,  however,  to  occasionally  use  her 
hands. 

She  continued  her  course,  now  through  the  apple  orchard, 
then  over  the  lawn,  and  among  the  great  oaks  which  stood 
about  the  house.  All  was  quiet,  almost  deathlike.  Heavy 
shadows  alternated  with  wide  spaces  of  moonlit  snow. 
Nowhere  a  sign  or  sound  of  life.  Major  Claverden  kept 
only  hunting  dogs,  and  these  in  such  weather  were  safely 
housed  in  a  distant  barn.  Midnight  intruders  were  not 
expected  at  Bald  Hill. 

A  path  had  been  cleared  around  the  house,  and  on  this 
Ardis  stepped  noiselessly  to  the  front  piazza  and  ascended 


A  RDIS   CL  A  VERDEX.  257 

the  steps.  There  was  a  window  at  one  end  of  the  piazza 
which  opened  into  the  library  and  which  was  seldom 
fastened,  for  when  there  had  been  smoking  in  that  room 
her  father  liked  to  slightly  lower  the  upper  sash.  She 
opened  the  shutters  and,  as  she  hoped  and  expected,  she 
found  she  could  raise  the  lower  sash.  Lifting  it  slowly  she 
clambered  into  the  room,  and  slipping  off  her  boots  she 
stepped  quickly  to  the  fireplace  where  a  great  mass  of 
coals  twinkled  in  thousands  of  little  stars  through  the 
white  ashes  that  had  been  piled  over  them.  Here  she  sat 
down  and  warmed  herself.  Her  vigorous  exercise  had 
put  her  body  in  a  glow,  but  her  hands  and  face  were  cold. 
She  would  not  have  enjoyed  so  much  the  gentle  heat 
coming  from  this  banked-up  bed  of  coals  had  she  known 
that  the  man  who  had  followed  her  from  the  old  half- 
ruined  house  all  the  way  to  Bald  Hill,  keeping  at  a  dis- 
creet distance,  but  never  losing  sight  of  her  until  she  had 
entered  the  library  window,  was  now  standing  on  a  bit  of 
bare  ground  behind  one  of  the  oak  trees  on  the  lawn 
stamping  his  feet,  and  beating  himself  with  his  arms  to 
keep  from  becoming  chilled.  This  man  had  heard  the 
slight  crunch  made  by  the  breaking  of  the  snow-crust 
when  Ardis  had  dropped  from  her  bedroom  window.  He 
had  seen  her  cross  the  yard,  and  he  had  divined  her  pur- 
pose. As  quickly  as  possible  preparing  himself  for  a 
walk  through  the  snow,  he  had  followed  her  that  he  might 
protect  and  help  her  in  case  there  should  be  need  for  it ; 
but  intending  not  to  intrude  himself  upon  her  unless  there 
should  be  need.  Once,  when  she  slipped  down  into  the 
gully,  accidentally  as  he  thought,  he  had  rushed  forward 
to  her  assistance,  but  she  so  quickly  scrambled  up  the 
other  side  and  continued  on  her  way  that  he  understood 
what  she  had  done  and  followed  her  example  when  he 
reached  the  gully.  Shivering  and  stamping  he  would  stay 


258  AKDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

outside  until  she  reappeared,  or  until  he  felt  assured  that 
she  had  no  intention  of  reappearing. 

The  little  white  hands  that  were  spread  out  over  the 
fire  of  hot  ashes  were  soon  warmed,  and  then  Ardis  arose, 
and  with  noiseless  tread  stepped  out  of  the  open  library 
door  into  the  hall.  The  moonlight  coming  in  at  a  window 
over  the  landing  of  the  stairway,  enabled  her  to  see  her 
way,  and  she  quietly  went  up  stairs.  The  door  of  the 
front  room  on  the  right  of  the  upper  hall  was  slightly  ajar, 
and  through  it  came  a  long  line  of  pale  light.  This  was 
her  father's  room;  the  door  was  never  entirely  closed, 
and  in  it  a  little  night-lamp  always  burned. 

Ardis  noiselessly  approached  the  door,  and  opening  it 
slowly  and  gently,  she  looked  in.  Her  father  was  asleep 
— soundly  asleep — as  his  low  and  regular  breathing  testi- 
fied. His  ruddy,  upturned  features  were  distinctly  visi- 
ble. Ardis  gently  drew  near  and  seated  herself  upon  the 
corner  of  a  chair  which  stood  close  by  the  bedside ;  then 
leaning  forward  she  steadfastly  looked  upon  her  father's 
face.  What  she  would  do,  what  she  would  say,  how  she 
would  attempt  to  explain  her  presence  there  should  he 
suddenly  awake,  she  did  not  consider.  She  simply  sat, 
and  looked  upon  his  face. 

For  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  Ardis  remained  thus,  leaning 
slightly  forward  and  gazing  upon  her  father's  features, 
calm  in  sleep.  Then  she  bent  her  face  down  close  to  his, 
and  gently  kissed  him  on  the  cheek.  There  was  a  slight 
twitching  in  the  muscles  of  his  face  and  she  drew  back 
quickly;  but,  almost  immediately,  the  regular  breathing 
began  again,  and  he  slept  on. 

Quietly  rising,  Ardis  now  moved  toward  the  door. 
There  she  stopped,  and,  turning,  looked  back  for  a  few 
moments  at  her  father.  Then  she  went  out,  leaving  the 
door  as  she  had  found  it.  What  she  had  done  was  a  very 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  259 

little  thing,  but  it  was  the  sole  reason  for  which  in  the 
middle  of  the  night  she  had  trudged  through  the  snow  to 
Bald  Hill. 

When  she  reached  the  lower  hall  she  was  struck  with 
an  idea.  Going  to  the  library  she  found  the  match  box 
in  its  regular  place  on  the  mantel-piece,  and  igniting  a 
match  by  touching  it  to  an  exposed  ember,  so  that  no 
crackling  should  be  heard,  she  lighted  a  candle  in  one  of 
the  old-fashioned  silver  candlesticks  which  stood  on  each 
end  of  the  mantel-piece.  With  this  heavy  piece  of  family 
plate  in  her  hand  she  went  over  all  the  lower  part  of  the 
house,  omitting  only  the  store-room,  the  door  of  which 
was  locked.  When  she  had  satisfied  herself  that  every- 
thing was  in  order,  and  that  the  comfort  of  her  father  and 
his  guest,  the  general,  was  properly  attended  to  she  re- 
entered  the  library,  blew  out  the  light,  and  when  the  little 
spark  on  the  wick  had  entirely  died  away,  she  replaced 
the  candlestick  on  the  mantel-piece. 

Her  feet  were  now  cold,  having  so  long  been  covered 
only  by  stockings,  and  she  stood  and  warmed  them  at  the 
fire.  Outside  the  man  behind  the  oak  tree  kept  stamping 
his  feet,  but  did  not  succeed  in  keeping  them  very  warm. 
Through  the  half-closed  slats  of  the  shutters  he  had  seen 
the  light  as  Ardis  passed  from  room  to  room,  and  had 
thought  how  easy  it  would  be  for  a  robber  to  rob  the  Bald 
Hill  house.  Fortunate  therefore  it  was  that  there  were  no 
robbers.  Thinking  thus  he  stamped  his  feet,  and  did  not 
wonder  that  Ardis  was  loth  to  leave  that  comfortable 
mansion. 

When  Ardis  had  warmed  her  feet,  she  went  to  the 
window,  put  on  her  boots,  raised  the  sash,  got  out,  closed 
the  window  and  shutters,  and  then,  with  as  little  creaking 
of  boots  and  boards  as  was  possible,  she  made  her  way 
along  the  piazza  and  down  the  steps. 


260  ARDIS   CLA  VERDE X. 

"  Now,1'  she  said  to  herself,  as  she  reached  the  ground, 
"  I  do  not  see  why  any  one  should  know  that  I  have  been 
here."  The  reason  she  did  not  see  was  the  opacity  of  an 
oak  tree. 

When  she  had  crossed  the  lawn  and  entered  the  apple 
orchard  the  man  behind  the  tree  began  to  follow  her. 
She  went  straight  away  across  the  fields,  but  not  in  the 
track  by  which  she  had  come;  for  making  a  slight  diverg- 
ence she  believed  she  could  avoid  the  gullies.  She  now 
began  to  feel  a  little  nervous.  When  she  had  been  going 
to  Bald  Hill,  her  object,  and  the  fact  that  she  was  ap- 
proaching her  home,  had  sustained  her  courage.  But  now 
she  was  going  to  a  strange  place,  and  it  was  very,  very 
late.  If  she  should  meet  a  man  or  a  dog,  or  suddenly 
find  herself  benumbed  by  cold,  what  would  become  of 
her?  Steadily  behind  her  followed  the  man.  He  knew 
what  would  become  of  her  should  danger  threaten. 

When  Ardis  reached  her  bed-room  window,  the  sill  of 
which  was  some  four  feet  from  the  ground,  she  found  that 
she  could  not  raise  the  lower  sash.  The  projection  of  the 
frame  work  around  the  panes  on  the  outside  was  so  slight 
that  her  fingers  could  obtain  but  little  hold,  and  she  could 
not  reach  the  upper  part  of  the  sash.  She  was  about  to 
relinquish  the  attempt  in  shivering  despair  when  a  low 
voice  beside  her  said:  "Allow  me  to  raise  the  window, 
Miss  Ardis." 

If  she  had  not  known  the  voice  she  would  have  screamed 
in  fright.  "Dr.  Lester!  "  she  said.  "Is  it  possible  that  I 
have  awakened  you  by  trying  to  get  in  at  this  window?  " 

The  doctor  smiled,  and  still  depressing  his  voice  for 
fear  of  awakening  the  Chiverley's,  he  said:  "People  can- 
not get  into  my  houses  without  my  knowing  it.  And  now, 
let  me  help  you  in." 

With  one  foot  in  his  hand,  as  if  she  were  mounting  a 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  261 

horse,  Ardis  was  raised  to  the  window-sill,  and  entered 
her  room.  Before  closing  the  window  she  leaned  out, 
and  said:  "I  think  it  is  right,  doctor,  that  I  should  tell 
you  that  I  have  been  to  Bald  Hill.  I  could  not  pass  so 
near  my  home  without  peeping  in  on  father,  and  I  did 
that  and  bade  him  good-by,  although  he  did  not  know  it, 
being  fast  asleep.  I  slipped  away  by  myself  because  I 
was  sure  you  would  all  cry  out  against  such  an  undertak- 
ing. But  I  went  there  and  came  back  without  meeting 
even  an  old  hare.  My  only  mishap  was  not  being  able  to 
open  this  window,  and  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  made  you 
come  out  of  your  house  to  open  it  for  me." 

"  That  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence,"  said  the  doctor. 
"  But  you  must  not  stay  any  longer  at  that  open  window. 
Good-night." 

Dr.  Lester  had  just  opened  his  door  when  he  heard  a 
step  behind  him,  and,  turning  suddenly,  he  beheld  Bo- 
netti.  As  the  doctor  started  back  in  amazement  the  other 
said  in  a  high  whisper:  "I'll  be  mighty  glad  to  get  inside 
and  warm  myself,  doctor,  for  I  am  pretty  nigh  froze." 
And  saying  this,  he  immediately  entered  the  house. 

The  doctor  followed.  "  Bonnet  !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  what 
does  this  mean  ?  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

Bonetti  drew  a  chair  close  to  the  fireplace,  in  which 
some  ends  of  logs  were  still  smouldering.  "  Well,"  said 
he,  "  I  have  been  to  Bald  Hill  with  you  and  Miss  Ardis 
Ciaverden.  When  I  saw  you  followin'  her  across  the 
fields  I  reckoned  that  you  were  goin'  along  to  take  care 
of  her  without  her  knovvin'  it.  So  I  followed  you  to  take 
care  of  you." 

"  Of  me?  "  said  the  doctor,  so  agitated  that  he  had  not 
thought  of  sitting  down.  "  And  how  did  you  come  to  see 
Miss  Ardis?  What  were  you  doing  here?  " 

"Yes,"   said  Bonetti,    extending    his  feet    dangerously 


262  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

close  to  the  embers,  "  I  went  along  to  take  care  of  you, 
for  if  you'd  met  one  drunken  feller  keepin'  Christmas  be- 
fore the  time  you'd  ha'  been  just  as  likely  to  meet  two, 
and  then  your  hands  would  have  been  a  little  too  full. 
And  how  did  I  know  it  was  Miss  Ardis?  That  was  easy 
enough  to  anybody  who  had  ever  seen  her  walk.  But  I 
would  have  known  it  was  her  any  way  from  havin'  seen 
her  and  that  painter  gentleman  and  his  wife  all  sittin'  to- 
gether in  the  kitchen  of  the  old  house." 

"  Bonnet!  "  exclaimd  the  doctor. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bonetti,  "  I  came  up  not  long  after  supper, 
thinkin'  I'd  have  a  little  talk  with  you,  and  when  I  opened 
your  door  you  wasn't  here ;  and  when  I  saw  a  path  through 
the  snow  from  this  house  to  the  other  one,  and  a  regular 
dug-out  path,  too,  such  as  you  wouldn't  have  made  for 
yourself,  I  began  to  wonder  and  I  went  over  to  see  what 
it  meant.  The  shutters  were  all  shut,  but  there  was  a 
chink  in  one  of  them,  and  I  looked  through,  and  there 
was  you  four  sittin'  before  the  fire." 

"  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  "  that  was  a  low-down,  con- 
temptible thing  for  you  to  do." 

"  No,  it  was  not,  said  Bonetti.  "  I  wanted  to  see  who 
was  in  there,  and  how  could  I  tell  that  I  oughtn't  to  look 
till  I  had  looked  ?  You  may  bet  your  life  that  I  jumped 
when  I  did  see  who  was  there!  I  didn't  look  in  no  more, 
for  I  don't  make  a  business  of  peepin'  through  chinks, 
but  I  went  into  that  old  garden  where  I  could  walk  about 
without  bein'  seen,  and  I  tramped  up  and  down  in  a 
trodden  path  thinkin'  and  thinkin'  and  thinkin',  and  tryin' 
to  work  out  the  toughest  puzzle  that  had  ever  been  set  be- 
fore me  since  the  day  I  was  born.  And  put  it  this  way  or 
that  just  as  much  as  I  pleased  there  was  only  one  way 
in  which  I  could  work  it  out.  There  was  Miss  Ardis 
Claverden  almost  within  rifle  shot  of  her  own  home  where 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  263 

she  was  born  and  raised,  and  not  goin'  there,  and  shuttin' 
herself  up  in  that  old  house ;  and  there  was  that  painter 
— I  forget  his  name — and  his  wife;  and  there  was  you. 
Now  it  stands  to  reason  there  was  only  one  way  to  work 
that  out,  and  that  was  that  you'd  been  playin'  a  mighty 
deep  game  on  me,  and  on  most  other  people  too,  and 
that  you  and  Miss  Ardis  was  goin'  to  run  off  and  get  mar- 
ried, and  that  them  two  had  come  with  her  to  help  along, 
and  that  none  of  you  was  goin'  to  show  at  Bald  Hill  till 
the  knot  was  tied." 

"What  outrageous  and  abominable  stuff!"  cried  Dr. 
Lester. 

"  Well,"  said  Bonetti,  "  that  was  the  only  way  I  could 
work  it  out;  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  when  you 
came  back  to  your  house  I'd  come  up  to  you,  fair  and 
square,  and  ask  you  about  it,  and  if  I  hadn't  worked  it 
out  right  you  could  say  so.  But  you  was  an  awful  long 
time  comin'  out,  and  after  walkin'  up  and  down  and 
keepin'  a  watch  upon  the  house  until  near  the  middle  of 
the  night,  and  then  comin'  up  close  to  the  back  door,  and 
hearin'  you  all  still  talkin'  inside,  I  went  to  the  stable  and 
sat  down  alongside  of  the  horse  so  as  to  get  warmed  up. 
His  hide  was  mighty  comfortable  to  put  my  hands  on,  and 
I  stayed  longer  than  I  thought  to,  and  when  I  come  out 
the  first  thing  I  saw  was  a  woman  jumpin'  on  the  snow 
from  a  lower  window.  You  c,an  bet  that  I  stood  stock 
still  and  kept  shady  when  I  saw  that.  Then  she  put  off 
and  got  into  the  field,  and  of  course  I  knew  who  it  was ; 
then  put  you  come,  quiet,  and  followed  her.  I  let  you  get 
a  little  on,  and  I  followed  you,  as  I  told  you  before.  Now 
I  couldn't  work  out  what  she  was  goin'  off  to  Bald  Hill 
for.  At  first  I  thought  she  had  repented  her  bargain,  and 
was  runnin'  home  to  her  father.  But  I  soon  considered 
that  she  wasn't  the  kind  of  a  girl  to  go  back  on  anybody." 


264  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

The  doctor  here  made  an  impatient  gesture,  and  seemed 
about  to  interrupt,  but  he  did  not,  and  Bonetti  continued. 

"  By  the  time  she  had  got  into  the  Bald  Hill  house — 
and  mighty  neat  she  did  it  too — I  had  made  up  my  mind 
that  she  had  gone  home  to  get  something  she  wanted  to 
take  with  her.  I  reckoned  she'd  be  out  pretty  soon  be- 
cause I  saw  you  waitin',  so  I  waited  too.  It  was  cold 
work,  but  I  reckoned  I  could  stand  it  as  long  as  you 
could ;  and  when  she  come  out,  havin'  got  her  breastpin 
or  her  ring,  or  whatever  it  was  she  was  after,  I  followed 
after  you  both  and  saw  you  help  her  in  the  window.  Now 
then,  doctor,  if  I  haven't  worked  it  out  the  right  way, 
what  is  the  right  way?  " 

Dr.  Lester,  who  had  been  standing  all  this  time,  now 
sat  down  before  the  fire.  He  was  very  angry  with  Bonetti, 
and  would  have  been  glad  to  refuse  to  gratify  his  anxiety. 
But  the  man  had  seen  so  much  it  would  be  wise  to  secure 
his  secrecy  by  telling  him  everything.  Therefore,  in  as 
few  words  as  possible  he  stated  the  facts  in  the  case. 
"And  now  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  "you  are  not  to 
breathe  to  your  family,  or  to  any  one,  that  you  have  seen 
Miss  Ardis  and  her  friends  here ;  or  that  you  know  any- 
thing about  their  movements  or  their  intentions.  As  for 
me  it  is  of  no  importance  whether  I  stay  here  or  go  away; 
and  if  people  think  I  am  absent  on  Roger  Dunworth's  be- 
half I  have  no  objections.  But  they  must  know  nothing 
of  the  company  with  me.  And,  by-the-way,  Bonnet,  since 
you  have  forced  yourself  into  this  matter,  I  shall  get  you 
to  do  something  for  me.  If  Roger  Dunworth  should  come 
home  while  I  am  looking  for  him,  or  if  you  should  hear 
anything  about  him  which  I  ought  to  know,  I  want  you  to 
telegraph  to  me.  I  will  give  you  the  address." 

So  saying  the  doctor  went  to  his  desk  and  presently  re- 
turned with  the  address  on  a  card.  Bonetti  took  it. 


ARDIS  CLATERDEN.  265 

"  Didman's  Hotel,  Atlanta,  Georgia,"  he  read.  "That 
I  suppose,  is  the  p'int  you're  goin'  to  operate  from  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  and  remember  this,  Bonnet. 
When  Miss  Ardis  returns,  successful  or  unsuccessful,  she 
will  tell  her  father  all  that  has  happened,  but  he  must  not 
hear  a  word  of  it  from  any  other  lips." 

"All  right!"  said  Bonetti.  "Nobody  shall  hear  of  it 
from  me."  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  and  then  he 
went  on.  "  It  does  seem  to  me,  Dr.  Lester,  that  you 
must  love  a  girl  most  powerful  when  you  do  all  you're 
cloin'  to  help  her  to  get  the  man  she  wants." 

"  Bonnet  !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor  springing  to  his  feet, 
"  I  once  told  you  to  drop  all  that  ! " 

"  Dropped  it  is,"  said  the  other,  pushing  back  his  chair 
and  extending  his  fingers  with  a  jerk  as  if  something  hot 
had  fallen  from  them.  "  And  now  I  think  I'll  go  home. 
If  I  hear  anything  about  Dunworth  I'll  telegraph  to  you, 
namin'  no  names.  But  I  don't  believe  he'll  be  ketched 
for  a  horse  thief.  He's  too  sharp  for  that." 

"  You  may  as  well  sleep  here,"  said  the  doctor,  "  It  is 
very  late,  and  you  can  have  that  lounge." 

"  No,"  said  Bonetti.  "  I  don't  mind  walkin'  home,  and 
if  the  women  folks  should  get  up  to-morrow  mornin',  and 
find  me  away  and  no  wood  split,  there  might  be  a  row. 
Good  night,  and  good  luck  to  you  ! " 

The  next  day  Cream-o'-Tartar,  with  some  difficulty  in 
muddy  places,  drew  our  party  to  Woodbridge  Station 
where,  in  due  time,  a  southern-bound  train  arrived  and 
took  them  on  their  journey.  The  doctor  did  not  mount 
the  steps  of  the  car  until  the  train  was  on  the  point  of 
starting.  He  had  been  stroking  the  nose  of  his  horse, 
and  talking  to  a  man  who  was  to  take  charge  of  him. 

"  I  don't  wonder,  Dr.  Lester,"  said  Ardis,  as  they  were 
moving  off,  "  that  you  wanted  to  say  good-by  to  Cream- 


266  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

o'-Tartar.  He  is  a  good  horse ;  and  when  I  come  back 
I  am  going  to  do  something  for  him.  I  don't  know  what 
it  will  be,  but  something  for  his  comfort" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  he  is  a  good  horse."  And 
then  he  dropped  the  subject.  It  was  not  for  him  to  say 
to  Ardis  that  on  the  morning  before  he  had  sold  Cream- 
o'-Tartar  to  pay  the  expenses  of  this  journey. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  267 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

AT  Didman's  Hotel  in  Atlanta  our  party  heard  no  news 
of  Roger  Dunworth.  That  this  should  be  so  had 
been  considered  among  the  strong  possibilities;  and  no 
time  was  lost  in  making  preparations  to  carry  out  the  plan 
of  campaign  which  had  been  agreed  upon.  After  it  had 
been  made  plain  that  Roger  had  not  gone  to  any  other 
place  in  the  city,  a  letter  was  sent  to  the  postmaster  at 
Breeville,  announcing  the  approach  in  that  direction  of 
friends  of  Mr.  Dunworth ;  and  the  next  morning  the  party 
set  out  on  their  search  through  a  portion  of  the  State  un- 
traversed  by  railroads.  It  was  decided  to  proceed  north- 
ward toward  Breeville,  as  it  was  supposed  that  Roger 
would  naturally  make  his  way  southward  toward  Atlanta, 
where  he  had  requested  Dr.  Lester  to  address  him.  At 
all  possible  points  inquiries  were  to  be  made  and  at 
places  where  it  might  be  thought  proper  notes  were  to  be 
left  for  Roger,  or  information  for  his  benefit. 

Two  buggies  were  hired  for  the  journey,  each  drawn  by 
a  single  horse.  It  was  considered  better  to  proceed  in 
this  way,  as  in  the  search  it  would  sometimes  be  neces- 
sary for  the  party  to  separate.  The  travellers  took  with 
them  very  little  baggage,  leaving  their  trunks  at  Atlanta, 
and  the  clothes  they  wore  were  such  as  were  suited  to 
rough  work  in  all  weathers.  The  doctor  did  not  find  it 
necessary  to  make  any  change  in  his  dress,  but  Mr. 
Chiverley  wore  a  gray  flannel  shirt  and  a  soft,  shapeless 
hat.  His  wife  considered  herself  quite  ready  for  roughing 


268  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

it  in  an  old  woollen  dress  and  a  black  straw  hat  tied  on 
with  a  veil.  Ardis  wore  a  suit  in  which  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  tramp  about  Bald  Hill  in  bad  weather.  Her 
dnrk  flannel  dress  was  short,  a  silk  handkerchief  was  tied 
loosely  around  her  neck,  and  her  hair  was  tightly  put  up, 
and  almost  concealed  under  a  boy's  felt  hat.  On  her  feet 
she  wore  the  boots  which  Dr.  Lester  had  returned  to  her. 

"  Well!  "  cried  Mr.  Chiverley  when  he  saw  her.  "  You 
are  the  young  lady  who  advised  us  to  bring  our  best 
clothes  down  here  so  we  could  make  an  impression  of  re- 
spectability." 

"Certainly,"  said  Ardis,  "and  if  the  time  comes  to 
make  such  an  impression  we  should  feel  badly  if  we  had 
to  make  it  in  this  toggery.  But  for  working  purposes  I 
call  this  sort  of  thing  quite  suitable." 

"  You  have  made  yourself  look  like  a  girl,"  said  Mrs. 
Chiverley,  "while  I  resemble  an  old  woman.  I  think  I 
shall  take  you  for  my  daughter." 

"Very  good,"  said  Ardis,  "and  when  we  get  tired  of 
that  we  can  change  the  relationship  with  the  costume." 

The  party  set  out,  with  the  two  gentlemen  in  the  lead- 
ing buggy  and  Ardis  driving  Mrs.  Chiverley  in  the  other. 

Their  plan  was  to  change  about  when  they  felt  like  it. 

As  they  drove  along  Mr.  Chiverley  said  to  his  compan- 
ion: "  I  don't  care  to  speak  in  this  way  before  the  ladies, 
but  since  I  have  found  that  Mr.  Dunworth  has  not  made 
his  appearance  in  Atlanta  where  his  letters  were  to  be  for- 
warded, I  have  not  been  hopeful  in  regard  to  him.  It  is 
now  a  long  time  since  he  left  Breeville." 

"  The  case  does  not  look  as  well  as  I  should  like  it  to," 
said  the  doctor,  "but  I  don't  despair.  Roger  Dunworth 
is  a  peculiar  fellow,  and  his  travelling,  especially  in  the 
present  instance,  is  likely  to  be  different  from  the  travel- 
ling of  any  other  man.  For  years  he  has  been  much  inter- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  269 

ested  in  northern  Georgia,  and  although  this  was  not  the 
reason  of  his  leaving  home,  I  am  sure  it  determined  the 
place  of  his  exile.  At  college  he  was  an  ardent  student, 
and  now  he  is  an  ardent  farmer.  If  there  is  any  better 
way  of  doing  things  than  as  he  does  them  he  wants  to 
know  it.  With  this  object  in  view  it  would  be  of  no  use 
or  interest  to  him  to  travel  on  a  high  road  direct  to  At- 
lanta. He  would  naturally  diverge  in  one  direction  and 
another,  and  continue  his  observations  as  he  made  his 
way  south.  I  imagine  that  he  may  have  an  idea  of  settling 
down  here,  and  that  he  is  investigating  different  localities 
with  that  view." 

"  His  present  farm  is  a  very  good,  one,"  said  Mr. 
Chiverley. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "  but  he  probably  could  make 
more  money  here,  and  in  his  present  state  of  mind  he 
might  prefer  to  live  here.  I  shall  be  very  sorry  if  he 
leaves  us,  for  our  country  cannot  afford  to  lose  such  a 
man." 

"  I  should  say  not,"  remarked  the  other.  "  We  used  to 
see  a  good  deal  of  him  the  summer  we  were  at  Bolton 
and  Bald  Hill,  and  we  both  considered  him  a  first-class 
fellow.  He  went  away  in  a  fit  of  jealousy,  didn't  he  ?  " 

"  Jealousy  or  despair,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "  I  don't  approve  of  either 
jealousy  or  despair,  but  if  a  man  is  liable  to  these  things 
I  don't  know  any  one  more  capable  of  bringing  them  on 
than  Miss  Ardis  Claverden." 

"  True  !  "  said  the  doctor. 

After  a  silence  of  a  few  moments,  Mr.  Chiverley  re- 
marked: "No  man  could  receive  a  higher  compliment 
than  to  have  Ardis  Claverden  come  down  here  on  his  ac- 
count. Of  course  it  is  the  motive  which  makes  the  action 
valuable.  As  far  as  doing  anything  is  concerned  it  would 


270  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

have  been  better  to  have  sent  two  more  men  than  to  have 
come  herself  and  bring  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  I  am  not  sure  of  that,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Miss  Ardis 
came  down  here  to  see  that  we  did  everything  that  could 
be  done ;  and  especially  to  see  that  we  did  not  get  dis- 
couraged and  give  up." 

"  You  may  be  right,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  It  is  pos- 
sible we  might  have  weakened — at  least  I  might — but 
with  her  with  us  I  think  there  will  be  no  weakening." 

That  day  our  friends  heard  nothing  of  Dun  worth,  but 
this  did  not  greatly  disappoint  them,  as  they  were  yet  too 
near  Atlanta  to  expect  much  in  the  way  of  news  of  him. 
They  spent  the  night  at  a  village,  and  in  the  morning  pur- 
sued their  journey.  On  this  day  some  detours  were 
made,  in  one  instance  the  doctor  walking  several  miles 
across  the  country  to  a  cross-roads  post-office  of  which 
he  had  been  told.  He  enjoyed  this  opportunity  of  stretch- 
ing his  long  legs,  but  when  he  rejoined  his  party  he  had 
no  news  to  give  them. 

Nothing  of  importance  occurred  the  next  day  except 
that  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  one  of  the  horses, 
who  had  been  a  disappointment  during  the  whole  journey, 
showed  signs  that  his  day's  supply  of  strength  was  giving 
out ;  and  they  therefore  found  themselves  obliged  to  stop 
at  a  settlement  some  miles  short  of  the  place  where  they 
expected  to  spend  the  night. 

Ardis  was  very  impatient  at  this  delay.  They  were  now 
approaching  a  part  of  the  country  where  news  was  to  be 
expected;  and  the  town  at  which  they  had  intended  to 
conclude  their  day's  journey  was  a  place  of  some  import- 
ance, where  they  might  reasonably  expect  to  learn  some- 
thing. An  effort  was  made  to  get  another  horse,  but  there 
were  none  to  be  had  at  this  place.  They  hoped  that  in 
the  morning  the  horse  would  be  able  to  carry  them  on. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  271 

The  tavern  at  which  they  stopped  was  small  but  com- 
fortable enough.  The  two  ladies,  with  the  books  they  had 
brought  with  them,  ensconced  themselves  in  the  dining- 
room,  where,  although  the  weather  was  not  cold  a  fire  of 
brushwood  was  crackling  on  the  hearth.  The  doctor  and 
Mr.  Chiverley  went  out  for  a  tramp,  partly  for  the  sake  of 
the  exercise  and  partly  because  they  might  chance  upon 
news  of  Dunworth  at  some  farm-house  or  cross-roads 
store. 

Ardis  soon  tired  of  reading,  and  leaving  Mrs.  Chiverley 
to  the  fire  and  her  book,  she  went  out  on  to  a  side  piazza 
which  opened  from  the  parlor.  Outside  it  was  much 
more  agreeable  to  her  than  in-doors.  The  sun  had  not 
yet  set,  and  the  air  was  just  beginning  to  be  touched  with 
a  gentle  frostiness.  She  went  in-doors,  put  on  her  hat 
and  jacket,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  piazza. 

While  thus  quieting  her  impatience  by  circulating  her 
blood  three  horsemen  rode  up  to  the  tavern,  and  tying 
their  horses  to  a  rack  they  entered  a  bar-room  which  was 
in  the  front  of  the  house  on  the  ground  floor.  From  the 
end  of  the  piazza,  Ardis,  having  nothing  else  to  look  at, 
watched  these  men  as  they  dismounted  and  went  into  the 
house.  They  were  ordinary-looking  men,  plainly  dressed, 
and  in  appearance  no  wise  interesting.  In  horses,  even 
if  ordinary,  Ardis  was  much  more  interested  than  in 
ordinary  men,  and  she,  therefore,  turned  her  attention  to 
the  animals  at  the  rack.  Two  of  these  horses  might  have 
been  good-enough  beasts,  but  they  had  been  ridden  hard, 
apparently  for  a  long  distance,  and  looked  worn  and  tired. 
The  third  horse,  however,  seemed  fresh  and  in  good  con- 
dition and  as  Ardis  looked  at  him  she  thought  what  a  fine 
thing  it  would  be  if  her  party  could  get  such  a  horse  as  that 
with  which  to  continue  their  journey  instead  of  the  one 
which  had  caused  them  such  delay.  The  animal  might 


272  AKDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

not  be  a  driving  horse,  and  in  all  probability  his  owner 
would  not  be  willing  to  hire  him ;  but  nevertheless  she 
would  go  down  to  look  at  him. 

He  was  indeed  a  fine  horse  and  very  much  opposed  to 
being  tied  to  a  rack.  His  companions  stood  quietly,  their 
heads  down,  but  he  moved  about,  stamping  impatiently 
and  tossing  his  head  from  side  to  side  as  if  he  were  look- 
ing for  some  one  to  come  and  loose  him. 

While  standing  near  the  horse,  but  out  of  the  way  of  his 
sidelong  movements,  Ardis  was  joined  by  the  proprietor 
of  the  house,  a  pleasant  little  man  who  wore  a  straw  hat 
in  December. 

"Fine  horse  that,  miss!"  said  he.  "Good  enough  for 
a  general  in  the  army!  Man  inside  brought  him  down 
from  Whitefield,  and  I  must  say  he  stood  the  journey 
better  than  them  others.  That's  the  way  a  horse  with 
blood  in  him  shows  what  he's  worth.'' 

"  The  others  appear  to  be  very  good  horses,''  said  Ardis. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  man,  "  but  they  don't  begin  to  come 
up  to  this  fellow!  He  is  a  little  damp  on  his  legs  and 
flanks,  but  on  the  rest  of  him  he  hasn't  turned  a  hair.  If 
I  had  the  money  I'd  like  to  own  that  horse !  You  might 
almost  think  he  was  tryin'  to  say  that  he  wants  his  supper, 
and  was  a-wonderin'  if  his  master  was  a-goin'  to  take  him 
back  home  or  put  him  up  here.  I  reck'n  I'll  go  in  and 
inquire  about  that  p'int  myself." 

Ardis  still  stood,  looking  at  the  horse.  Gradually  she 
began  to  imagine  that  she  had  seen  him  before.  She  went 
to  the  other  side  of  him  and  made  him  stand  around. 
She  now  knew  why  he  seemed  familiar  to  her.  He  re- 
sembled the  horse  on  which  she  had  once  taken  a  wild 
ride  to  drive  back  a  runaway  steer.  That  horse  belonged 
to  Roger  Dunworth,  and  it  was  the  one,  as  she  had  been 
told,  on  which  he  had  taken  his  southern  journey.  There 


ARDIS   CLAYERDEN.  273 

were  certain  movements  of  this  animal's  head  as  he  turned 
to  look  at  her  which  very  forcibly  recalled  to  her  mind  the 
horse  which  she  had  mounted  at  Heatherley  to  go  after 
the  steer. 

The  men  now  came  out  of  the  house  and  Ardis  walked 
away  to  the  other  side  of  the  road,  where  there  was  a 
broad  foot-path.  She  strolled  a  short  distance  on  this, 
and  then,  turning,  she  saw  that  the  men  had  not  mounted, 
but  were  walking  over  to  a  store  at  the  other  end  of  the 
little  settlement. 

Her  mind  was  now  occupied  by  a  rush  of  conjectures. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  this  was  Roger's  horse?  And 
if  so,  how  did  these  men  get  him?  She  did  not  believe 
that  Roger  had  sold  him,  for  this  she  did  not  consider 
likely.  But  if  any  evil  had  happened  to  Roger  the  horse 
might  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  these  men. 

The  men  having  now.  entered  the  store,  Ardis  crossed 
the  road,  and  again  approaching  the  horse,  began  to  ex- 
amine him  more  critically  than  before.  He  had  upon  him 
a  handsome  brass-pomelled  army  saddle,  and  lifting  the 
flap  of  this,  Ardis  saw  underneath,  scratched  boldly  and 
clearly  on  the  leather,  the  letters  "  R.  D." 

"This  is  Roger's  horse!"  Ardis  said  almost  aloud, 
"  and  this  is  his  saddle !  "  And  her  heart  began  to  beat 
hard  and  fast.  "These  men  have  stolen  him!  "  she  said. 
"  In  any  event,  Roger  would  not  have  sold  this  saddle !  It 
was  his  father's."  Then  again  rushed  into  her  mind  the 
dreadful  thought  that  something  had  happened  to  Roger. 
But  she  bravely  struck  down  this  thought.  "No,"  she 
said.  "  If  anything  had  happened  no  farther  away  than 
that  horse  has  travelled  to-day  it  would  have  been  heard 
of  here!  "  And  then  there  came  into  her  mind  a  thought 
which  displaced  everything  else,  and  that  was  that  Roc;cr 
might  not  be  very  far  away ! 
18 


274  AKDIS  cr.Arr.Ki)i-:y. 

Of  course  it  was  possible  that  the  horse  had  made  an 
easy  journey  to-day  and  that  he  had  made  an  easy  one 
the  day  before,  and  another  the  day  before  that,  but  no 
such  possibilities  entered  the  mind  cf  Ardis,  nor  did  she 
call  upon  her  judgment  to  act.  She  felt  that  that  horse 
had  come  from  Roger  and  that  he  had  not  come  far. 
The  men  might  have  brought  the  other  horses  from 
Whitefield  County,  but  not  this  one. 

She  stood  trembling,  pressing  her  hand  against  the 
warm  shoulder  of  the  horse.  It  was  Roger's  horse;  it 
was  Roger's  saddle.  She  looked  about  her;  the  men 
were  still  in  the  store,  but  at  any  moment  they  might  come 
out ;  Dr.  Lester  and  Mr.  Chiverley  were  nowhere  visible 
on  field  or  road.  For  an  instant  she  thought  of  the  little 
landlord  with  the  straw  hat.  But  what  could  he  do? 
What  would  he  be  willing  to  do? 

Instinctively,  and  scarcely  knowing  that  she  did  it,  she 
shortened  the  stirrup  on  the  near  side  of  the  horse  at 
which  she  was  standing.  Then  she  stood,  thinking  hard 
and  fast,  like  the  strikin-g  of  an  alarm-clock.  If  she  could 
get  that  horse  away  until  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Chiverley 
came  back  they  might  be  able  to  do  something  or  to  find 
out  something.  But  if  the  men  rode  off  before  the  return 
of  her  friends  the  horse  would  be  gone,  and  with  him  the 
strongest  clue  to  Roger's  whereabouts.  The  idea  that 
the  men  were  horse-thieves  was  now  firmly  fixed  in  her 
mind. 

Suddenly  she  stopped  thinking,  and  without  casting  a 
glance  around  her,  she  quietly  stepped  forward  to  the 
rack,  and  standing  on  tip-toe  loosed  the  bridle  from  the 
peg  and  threw  it  over  the  horse's  neck.  Then,  with  her 
hand  on  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  she  gave  a  strong  up- 
ward spring.  She  had  done  this  sort  of  thing  before,  but 
this  horse  stood  higher  than  her  mare,  and  there  was  a 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEX.  275 

little  struggle  before  she  got  her  seat.  One  foot  went 
into  the  stirrup,  and  one  knee  against  the  pommel.  It 
was  an  unsafe  position,  but  she  did  not  think  of  that. 

The  horse  backed  and  sidled  into  the  road.  Ardis  nat 
up  proudly.  "Now  I  have  possession  of  him!"  she 
thought.  "  They  shall  not  have  him  again  until  everything 
is  explained." 

At  this  instant  she  heard  a  shout  down  the  road,  and 
looking  back  she  saw  the  three  men  outside  the  store,  one 
of  them  running  toward  her.  With  a  word  to  the  horse 
and  with  a  grip  of  the  pommel  with  one  hand,  she  cantered 
away  from  the  men.  The  peculiar  danger  of  her  situation 
did  not  oppress  her.  But  if  it  had  she  would  not  have 
hesitated. 

"They  shall  not  go  off  without  telling  everything,"  she 
said,  and  again  looked  over  the  fields  for  her  friends. 
She  saw  nothing  of  them,  but  her  backward  glance  took 
in  the  tavern  and  she  saw  that  two  of  the  men  were 
mounting  their  horses ;  that  the  little  landlord  was  stand- 
ing in  the  road,  wildly  gesticulating ;  and  that  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley  was  leaning  over  the  rails  of  the  piazza. 

Ardis  leaned  forward  and  urged  her  horse  into  a  gallop. 
When  she  gave  up  the  animal  it  should  be  in  the  presence 
of  Dr.  Lester  and  Mr.  Chiverley.  Until  they  appeared 
the  men  should  not  have  him ! 

She  was  going  at  a  good  pace,  but  she  heard  the  hard 
beating  of  hoofs  behind  her.  Turning  her  head,  she 
saw  that  two  men  were  riding  after  her,  and  gaining  on 
her.  As  she  turned  they  shouted  to  her  to  stop.  There 
was  something  frightening  in  their  voices  and  gestures ; 
and  even  she  had  been  thinking  of  stopping  to  parley  with 
them,  she  dared  not  do  so  now.  If  the  men  were  not 
thieves  and  rascals,  why  should  they  be  so  disturbed  at  a 
young  woman  taking  a  ride  on  one  of  their  horses?  Why 


276  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

should  they  doubt  that  she  would  come  bad;,  to  her 
friends? 

Her  first  object  now  was  to  get  away  from  her  pursuers, 
and  she  did  not  in  the  least  doubt  she  could  do  it.  If  she 
caught  sight  of  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Chiverley  she  would 
instantly  put  herself  and  the  whole  affair  into  their  hands ; 
but  if  she  did  not  see  them  she  would  ride  to  a  farm  or  a 
village  where  she  could  seek  protection,  not  only  for  her- 
self, but  for  Roger's  horse.  At  all  risks  that  horse  must 
be  detained  until  the  thread  which  stretched  from  him  to 
Roger  could  be  followed  up!  If  those  men  should  over- 
take her  they  might  injure  her  or  they  might  not,  but  they 
would  certainly  bear  away  the  horse,  and  break  and  utterly 
destroy  the  present  strong  clue  to  the  object  of  her  journey. 

She  had  no  whip,  but  her  quick,  earnest  words  and  the 
fire  of  haste  which  seemed*  to  run  from  her  nervous  hand 
through  the  reins  and  bit  into  his  brain  were  enough  for 
the  spirited  animal  beneath  her.  He  gave  full  play  to  his 
powerful  muscles,  and  went  over  the  road  at  a  pace  which 
made  Ardis  hold  hard  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle  in 
order  to  keep  her  seat. 

A  few  minutes  of  this  furious  galloping  brought  her  to 
a  fork  in  the  road.  It  mattered  not  to  Ardis  which  road 
she  took,  but  the  horse  gave  her  no  opportunity  of  making 
a  decision,  for,  with  a  swerve  which  nearly  unbalanced 
her,  he  turned  into  the  left-hand  road.  When  she  felt  that 
she  again  had  command  of  her  seat — and  for  a  few  mo- 
ments she  had  had  some  doubt  of  this — Ardis  turned  to 
look  back.  On  the  road  over  which  she  had  gone  she  sav/ 
but  one  of  her  pursuers,  and  he  was  at  such  a  distance  be- 
hind her  she  felt  sure  he  would  not  overtake  her.  But 
where  was  the  other? 

She  turned  to  the  other  side,  and  saw  him  galloping 
madly  along  the  main  road,  but  past  the  point  at  which 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  277 

she  had  turned.  He  must  have  been  not  far  behind  her 
when  she  reached  the  fork,  but  why  should  he  keep  on  the 
other  road  ? 

In  a  few  moments  she  divined  his  purpose.  The  road 
she  was  on  now  made  a  curve  to  the  right,  around  the 
base  of  a  low  hill,  and  in  all  probability  it  approached  the 
highway,  and  the  man  who  was  so  furiously  keeping  on 
the  straight  course  might  make  a  cut  across  the  fields  and 
get  into  the  road  ahead  of  her.  Then  she  would  be  lost, 
for  with  one  pursuer  before  her  and  another  behind  her 
she  could  do  nothing. 

For  an  instant  she  thought  of  turning  into  the  fields  to 
her  left,  and  dashing  across  the  country  to  the  settlement 
from  which  she  had  come.  But  this  would  be  impossible. 
In  a  man's  saddle  she  could  not  leap  fences  nor  go  over 
a  rough  country.  In  less  than  a  minute  she  had  passed 
the  hill,  and  throwing  an  excited  glance  over  the  level 
fields,  she  saw  that  her  suspicions  had  been  correct.  The 
foremost  man  had  already  left  the  main  road,  and  was 
madly  urging  his  horse  across  a  pasture  field.  She  could 
see  his  arm  waving  up  and  down  as  he  plied  the  whip. 
Her  road  as  she  saw  it  before  her  still  curved  toward  the 
other,  and  to  her  judgment  the  man  seemed  nearer  the 
point  upon  it  at  which  he  was  aiming  than  she  was. 

Her  situation  was  desperate,  and  she  determined  upon 
a  bold  stroke.  She  was  more  afraid  of  the  man  before 
her  than  of  the  one  behind  her,  partly  because  it  was  clear 
that  the  latter  was  mounted  on  the  poorer  horse.  She 
would  turn,  make  a  wild  dash  past  him,  and  gallop  back 
to  the  tavern,  at  which  place  the  doctor  and  Mr.  Chiver- 
ley  must,  by  this  time,  have  arrived.  Her  intention  to 
carry  out  this  plan  was  strengthened  by  the  feeling  that 
she  did  not  wish  to  longer  pursue  this  unfrequented  country 
road  which  was  taking  her  she  knew  not  where.  Had  she 


278  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

kept  on  the  main  road  she  must  have  reached  protection ; 
but  this  seemed  to  lead  into  an  unsettled  country. 

As  quickly  as  this  resolution  was  formed  she  essayed 
to  carry  it  out;  but  her  horse  paid  no  attention  to  her 
attempts  to  turn  him.  Stiffening  his  powerful  neck,  he 
kept  straight  on.  Her  position  in  the  saddle  gave  her 
little  command  over  him,  for  it  was  as  much  as  she  could 
do  to  cling  to  her  seat  as  he  bounded  beneath  her.  There 
was  no  help  for  it,  she  must  go  on;  and  go  on  to  meet 
that  man  so  swiftly  crossing  the  field,  making  for  a  point 
where  there  was  probably  a  gate  or  a  break  in  the  fence. 
But  if  she  must  go  on,  then  must  she  go  on  like  lightning, 
and  pass  that  point  before  he  reached  it. 

She  shook  the  reins  with  frantic  haste,  and  fairly  shouted 
in  the  horse's  ears.  The  animal  was  as  greatly  excited  as 
his  rider,  and  he  seemed  to  know  that  he  must  not  allow 
himself  to  be  headed  off.  Thoroughly  warmed  by  his 
previous  running,  he  now  gathered  himself  up  and  threw 
himself  out  with  such  quick  and  powerful  action  that  Ardis 
felt  as  if  she  were  sitting  upon  a  steam-engine  working  at 
highest  speed,  every  stroke  of  which  thrilled  and  shook 
her.  Dropping  the  reins,  she  clung  with  one  hand  to  the 
horse's  mane  and  with  the  other  to  the  pommel. 

The  horse  on  which  the  man  was  riding  across  the  field 
may  have  been  tired  and  worn  out  when  he  reached  the  tav- 
ern, but  he  was  surely  an  animal  of  good  blood  and  bottom, 
for  his  frantic  rider  had  worked  him  up  into  a  surprising 
burst  of  speed.  The  two  horses  rushed  madly  toward  the 
disputed  point ;  the  man  shouting  wildly  as  he  rode,  and 
Ardis  leaning  forward  and  clinging  fast  as  if  for  dear  life; 
but  the  freshness  of  her  horse,  if  not  his  better  blood, 
told  well  in  this  last  mad  rush;  and  he  passed  a  break  in 
the  fence  while  the  other  animal  was  still  fifty  feet  away 
from  it. 


ARD1S  CLA  VERDE  N. 


279 


Ardis  did  not  turn  her  head,  but  as  she  passed  the  man 
she  leaned  forward  and  shut  her  eyes,  and  as  she  did  so 
she  heard  the  crack  of  a  pistol.  The  infuriated  man, 
blinded  by  his  rage,  had  fired,  whether  at  the  horse  or  at 
her  he  scarcely  knew  himself,  but  his  aim  was  wild,  and 
Ardis  was  already  in  such  an  excited  condition  that  the 
report  scarcely  frightened  her.  As  she  sped  quickly  on 
she  felt  that  her  escape  had  truly  been  made.  After  his 
frenzied  rush  over  the  fields  the  horse  of  her  pursuer  must 
be  good  for  little  in  a  chase  after  Roger's  noble  beast. 
The  pistol-shot  could  only  have  been  an  act  of  despera- 
tion, and  it  announced  that  the  chase  had  been  given  up. 

Very  soon  after  he  had  so  successfully  swept  by  the 
disputed  point,  Ardis'  horse  somewhat  slackened  his 
gait.  He  still  kept  up  a  swift  and  even  gallop,  and  Ardis 
feh  that  should  there  be  necessity  for  another  burst  of 
speed  he  had  within  him  the  power  to  make  it,  but  she 
feared  no  such  necessity.  Looking  back,  she  saw  no  one 
in  the  road.  In  all  probability  the  man  had  not  even  left 
the  field. 

But  where  was  she  now  going?  She  knew  not,  but  she 
would  not  stop  until  she  had  placed  miles  between  herself 
and  those  men.  And  for  miles  she  rode  on,  looking  right 
and  left  for  a  house  at  which  she  might  stop.  Here  and 
there  were  cabins,  and  once  or  twice  she  passed  a  small 
house ;  but  these  were  not  the  places  she  was  looking  for. 
She  wanted  to  reach  a  farm,  or  some  settlement  where 
there  were  plenty  of  people  about,  but  she  gradually  came 
to  believe  that  she  was  not  on  the  road  to  that  sort  of 
thing. 

The  sun  had  set  and  it  was  now  growing  dusky ;  and  as 
she  approached  a  moderate-sized  house  standing  back 
from  the  road,  Ardis  almost  involuntarily  pulled  on  the 
bridle  of  her  horse.  But  he  paid  no  attention  to  the  pull 


2 So  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

and  galloped  on.  And  now  the  animal  began  to  toss  his 
head  and  snort  as  horses  do  when  they  approach  their 
homes  and  behold  visions  of  hay-racks  and  measures  of 
grain.  Ardis  knew  what  this  meant.  She  leaned  forward 
so  that  her  head  rested  on  the  horse's  neck.  Her 
strengthening  excitement  had  died  out,  but  over  her  there 
stole  a  certain  pleasurable  feeling. 

"  He  is  going  home,"  she  said  to  herself;  "at  least  to 
the  place  where  he  was  last  fed  and  cared  for.  It  may  be 
that  he  has  been  there  a  good  while.  And  it  may  be  that 
Roger  is  there !  "  She  patted  his  neck.  "  Good  horse !  " 
she  said.  "  That  is  the  reason  you  turned  into  this  road. 
And  that  is  the  reason  you  would  stop  nowhere  but  at  your 
stable." 

And  so,  worn  out  and  shaken  as  she  was,  speeding  along 
that  wild  road  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  Ardis  felt  a 
quieting  happiness  stealing  over  her.  She  knew  that  the 
friends  she  had  left  behind  her  at  the  tavern  must  be  in  a 
sad  commotion.  They  could  not  know  where  she  had 
gone  or  what  had  become  of  her;  but  they  must  know 
that  angry  men  were  in  pursuit  of  her,  and  that  the  gravest 
dangers  might  beset  her.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it. 
She  was  as  sorry  for  them  as  it  was  possible  for  her  to  be, 
and  would  have  done  anything  to  let  them  know  that  she 
had  escaped  her  pursuers  and  was  on  her  way  to  a  prob- 
able shelter  and  safety,  and,  possibly,  to  Roger.  And  so, 
while  grieving  for  the  grief  and  anxiety  of  her  friends,  she 
felt  a  sense  of  relief  through  body  and  mind,  and 
wondered  should  she  really  find  Roger,  or  merely  news  of 
him  which  would  enable  her  to  find  him. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  28l 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

IT  was  growing  dark  when  the  horse  on  which  Ardis  had 
taken  her  long  and  perilous  ride  suddenly  accelerated 
his  pace,  and  then  abruptly  turned  from  the  road.  Ardis 
raised  her  head  and  saw  that  he  was  galloping  up  a  lane  to- 
ward a  house  where  a  light  was  shining.  The  horse  did  not 
go  to  the  house,  but  turned  off  into  a  barn-yard  littered  with 
straw  and  cornstalks ;  and  there  he  stopped,  threw  up  his 
head,  and  whinnied.  The  moment  he  came  to  a  halt 
Ardis  drew  her  foot  from  the  stirrup  and  slipped  to  the 
ground. 

When  first  upon  her  feet  she  trembled  so  much  that  she 
feared  she  could  not  stand,  but  as  a  man  came  out  of  the 
open  door  some  of  her  strength  returned  to  her,  and  she 
made  a  few  steps  toward  him.  But  he  did  not  give  her 
a  chance  to  speak. 

"  Bless  my  soul!  "  he  exclaimed.  "  If  here  ain't  Biscay! 
Well!  Well!  Upon  my  word  I'm  right  down  glad  to  see 
that  horse!  " 

Then  he  turned  to  Ardis  and  looked  upon  her  with  a 
face  of  astonishment.  The  horse  began  to  move  toward 
the  barn,  but  the  man  took  hold  of  the  bridle,  still  keep- 
ing his  eyes  fixed  upon  Ardis. 

"  Whar  did  he  come  from?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Did  you 
fetch  him?  And  whar  did  you  git  him?  Upon  my  word, 
I  never  reckoned  this  horse  would  be  brought  back  by  a 
gal — and  a  little  gal  like  you!  How  did  you  come  to 
doit?" 

That  Ardis  in  her  short  dress,  with  her  boy's  hat  pulled 


282  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

down  over  her  eyes  to  keep  it  from  flying  off,  should  be 
looked  upon  in  the  dim  light  of  evening  as  a  "gal"  was 
not  surprising,  but  Ardis,  tired  as  she  was,  could  not  re- 
strain a  little  smile  at  the  appellation.  The  man's  words 
greatly  cheered  her.  The  fact  that  she  was  at  a  place 
where  the  horse  was  known  was  a  most  encouraging  point. 

"  I  can't  answer  your  questions  now,"  she  said.  "  I  am 
too  tired.  Is  the' owner  of  that  horse  here?  That  is,  is 
Mr.  Dunworth  here?" 

The  man  looked  at  her  a  moment  without  answering. 
"Oho!"  he  then  said,  as  if  surprised  that  she  should 
know  the  name  of  the  horse's  owner.  "  No,  he  ain't  here." 

Ardis'  heart  fell. 

"He  ain't  here  jus'  now,"  continued  the  man.  "but  I 
reckon  he  will  be  before  long.  He's  gone  off  with  my 
man  Bill  to  look  for  this  horse  that  was  stole  out  of  this 
barn  airly  this  mornin'." 

Now  uprose  the  heart  of  Ardis  in  swelling  triumphant 
joy.  Roger  was  alive,  well,  and  free!  Not  until  this 
moment  did  she  understand  how  there  had  been  lying 
coiled  up  within  her  a  dreadful  fear  that  he  might  not  be 
alive,  well,  and  free.  She  was  about  to  speak,  but  her 
voice  forsook  her,  and  she  was  obliged  to  make  a  second 
attempt. 

"  I  should  like,"  she  faltered  out,  "to  wait  for  him." 

"Wait?"  said  the  man.  "Of  course  you  can  wait  as 
long  as  you  like.  Jus'  stop  a  minute  till  I  tie  this  horse, 
an'  I'll  take  you  inside." 

Having  thrown  the  bridle  over  a  hook  in  the  barn,  the 
man  rejoined  her.  "  I  reckon  if  you've  come  any  distance 
on  that  big  horse  an'  no  crutch  to  the  saddle,  you  must 
be  pretty  well  played  out.  Come  on  in.  But  I  will  say 
that  I'm  everlastin'  cur'ous  to  know  how  a  gal  like  you 
came  to  fetch  that  horse  here! " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  283 

"  I  can't  tell  you  now,"  said  Ardis.  "  I  must  wait  until 
Mr.  Dunworth  comes  back." 

"  All  right !  "  said  the  man,  as  the  opened  the  house  door. 
"  If  them's  your  orders  we'll  have  to  wait.  Here's  a  gal 
who's  brought  home  the  horse  that  was  stole,"  he  said 
to  his  wife,  a  pleasant  little  woman  who  was  busy  help- 
ing a  colored  girl  get  supper. 

The  wife  was  as  much  astonished  as  her  husband  had 
been,  but  when  she  looked  upon  that  portion  of  Ardis'  pale 
face  which  was  not  covered  by  her  hat,  and  noticed  the 
weary  way  in  which  she  dropped  upon  a  chair,  her  amaze- 
ment gave  way  to  kindly  solicitude. 

"By  your  looks,"  she  said,  "you  must  be  tired  almost 
to  death.  Supper'll  be  ready  directly,  an'  when  you've 
had  a  good  meal  you'll  feel  stronger  an'  ready  to  tell  us 
the  meanin'  of  all  this  business." 

"No,"  said  her  husband,  "she's  not  to  tell  anybody  till 
the  owner  of  the  horse  comes.  That's  pretty  hard  on  us, 
but  I  reckon  we'll  have  to  stick  it  out." 

Ardis  now  spoke  and  said  she  wanted  nothing  but  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  a  piece  of  bread,  and  then  she  would  be 
very  thankful  if  she  might  be  allowed  to  lie  down  some- 
where. 

"  The  coffee  is  purtty  nigh  b'iled,"  said  the  woman,  "  an' 
you  can  have  a  cup  in  a  minute." 

"  An'  I'll  step  out,"  said  the  man,  "  an'  give  Biscay  his 
feed.  But  I'll  jus'  say  one  thing  before  I  go."  And  he 
now  spoke  without  looking  at  Ardis.  "  I  want  it  gener- 
ally understood  that  no  man  who  tries  to  steal  that  horse 
or  any  o'her  horse  on  this  place  is  goin'  to  git  away  alive. 
Now  that  I  know  there's  horse-thieves  about  I'm  ready 
for  'em." 

As  the  man  closed  the  door  his  wife  turned  from  the 
fire  and  looked  at  Ardis.  "  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  she 


284  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

asked,   "  that  anybody  has  put  you  under  oath  to  say 
nothin'  'cept  to  the  owner  of  the  horse?  " 

Ardis  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  under  no  oath,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  cannot  talk  now." 

It  was  Roger  who  should  hear  her  story.  Only  to  Roger 
could  she  tell  it. 

When  Ardis  had  finished  her  slight  repast — and  the 
strong  coffee  toned  her  up  wonderfully — the  woman  said 
to  her:  "If  I  was  you  I  wouldn't  lay  down  nowhere  in 
my  clothes,  but  I'd  jus'  go  to  bed  an'  have  a  good  night's 
sleep.  There's  a  little  room  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  that 
I  can  git  ready  for  you  in  three  minutes.  Mr.  Dunworth 
set  off  hot  an'  heavy  after  his  horse  before  breakfas'  this 
mornin',  an'  it's  more'n  as  like  as  not  that  he  won't  be  back 
till  to-morrow.  He's  got  to  come  back  then,  for  he  knows 
we  can't  do  without  the  horses  no  longer'n  that,  an'  the 
ones  he  an'  Bill  is  ridin'  is  all  we've  got.  Jimminy!  he'll 
be  glad  when  he  sees  that  horse,  for  I  believe  he  thinks 
more  of  him  than  he  would  of  a  wife  an'  baby!  " 

After  a  moment's  thought  Ardis  agreed  to  the  woman's 
proposal.  If  Roger  came  back  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
it  would  be  no  time  to  talk  to  him,  and  as  he  could  not 
possibly  know  who  had  brought  back  his  horse,  her  secret 
would  be  safe  until  she  should  tell  it  in  the  morning.  As 
she  went  up-stairs  she  asked  which  way  Mr.  Dunworth  had 
gone. 

"  Straight  up  the  road,"  said  the  woman,  pointing  in  the 
opposite  direction  from  that  in  which  Ardis  had  come. 
"  That's  the  way  the  tracks  p'inted." 

"  It  is  good,"  thought  Ardis  before  she  went  to  sleep, 
"  it  is  very  good  that  he  went  that  way.  He  will  come 
back  disappointed,  but  that  doesn't  matter  now,  and  if  he 
had  gone  the  other  way  he  might  have  come  upon  those 
three  men.  Now  he  is  safe." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  285 

And  notwithstanding  that  she  was  alone  in  a  little  house 
in  a  wild  country,  among  utter  strangers,  and  that  Dr. 
Lester  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  must  be  almost  dis- 
tracted by  her  flight  and  continued  absence,  she  stretched 
herself  out  on  the  hard  and  lumpy  bed  of  "  corn  shucks," 
and  nestled  her  head  as  well  as  she  could  into  the  un- 
yielding hen's  feathers  pillow,  and  almost  laughed  in  irre- 
pressible joy.  She  had  come  to  the  very  house  where 
Roger  was  staying !  How  he  happened  to  be  at  this  house 
mattered  nothing  to  her.  He  was  coming  back  to  it; 
that  was  enough.  With  this  thought  banishing  all  others 
she  passed  into  happy  dreams. 

Meantime  the  man  and  his  wife  were  talking  together 
down-stairs.  "  It's  took  away  my  appetite,"  said  the  man, 
"  took  it  clean  away,  a-thinkin'  an'  thinkin'  how  on  airth 
that  horse  come  to  be  fetched  back  by  a  gal." 

"  That's  what's  been  goin'  through  my  head,"  said  the 
woman,  "  like  a  shuttle,  back'ards  an'  for'ards,  ever  sence 
I  set  eyes  on  her." 

"  The  only  notion  I  can  lay  hold  of,"  said  her  husband, 
"is  that  the  rascal  who  took  the  horse  was  afraid  to  keep 
him,  for  anybody  who'd  once  seen  him  would  know  him 
again,  an'  has  sent  him  back  with  some  sort  of  a  cock-an'- 
bull  story  to  get  money  out  of  Mr.  Dunworth ;  an'  they 
sent  a  gal,  because  nobody  would  be  likely  to  hurt  a  gal ; 
an'  if  they'd  sent  a  man  he  might  have  been  nabbed  or 
shot,  one." 

l'  I  don't  reckon,"  said  the  woman,  "  from  the  look  of 
her,  that  she's  mixed  up  with  no  horse-thieves ;  at  least 
from  her  own  free  will  an'  likin' ;  anyway,  if  she  is  mixed 
up  with  'em  I  should  say  she's  the  daughter  of  one  of 
'em;  an'  she's  not  to  be  blamed  for  that,  for  her  own 
free-will  an'  likin'  had  nothin'  to  do  with  it.  Of  course 
she's  after  money,  an'  wants  to  bargain  with  the  owner 


286  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

an'  nobody  else.  But  I've  an  idee  that  she  found  out 
whar  that  horse  belonged,  an'  brought  him  back  of  her 
own  accord." 

"  If  that's  what  she's  done,"  said  the  man,  "  I  pity  her 
when  she  gits  back  to  them  fellers." 

"  I  reckon  she's  got  that  all  straightened  out,"  said  the 
woman.  "She's  no  fool.  I  could  tell  that  by  the  way 
she  wouldn't  talk." 

"  It's  more'n  likely  that's  so,"  said  the  man.  "  An'  then 
again  she  mayn't  ha'  took  the  horse  from  her  folks. 
PYaps  they  sold  him,  an'  she  stole  him  from  the  man 
that  bought  him.  Some  o'  them  gals  is  powerful  sharp, 
'specially  when  they've  been  brought  up  to  it!  " 

"  Well,"  said  the  woman,  "  we  may  know  the  rights  of 
it,  and  then  again  we  may  never  know;  for  Mr.  Dun- 
worth  likes  mighty  well  to  keep  things  to  himself,  an'  he 
mayn't  care  to  tell  us  what  sort  o'  bargain  he  makes  with 
the  gal." 

"Oh,  go  'long!"  said  the  man.  "He'll  tell  me  all 
about  it,  you  bet,  though  he  mayn't  care  to  trust  his  con- 
cearns  with  a  woman." 

The  wife  arose  and  set  about  finishing  up  the  work  for 
the  day,  a  gentle  smile  of  superior  knowledge  flitting 
across  her  thin  face. 

The  commotion  in  the  tavern  when  Ardis  rode  away 
on  Roger's  horse  was  very  great.  Mrs.  Chiverley  had 
heard  the  sounds  cf  galloping,  and  almost  immediately 
the  shouts  of  the  men,  and  had  hurried  out  to  the  piazza, 
where  she  plainly  saw  her  young  friend  dashing  away  upon 
her  flying  steed.  This  sight  almost  stupefied  her  with 
amazement ;  and  when  she  saw  the  two  men  mount  and 
ride  madly  after  Ardis,  she  became  dreadfully  frightened 
and  began  to  scream  for  her  husband  and  Dr.  Lester. 
These  gentlemen,  however,  had  not  returned,  and  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  287 

poor  lady  rushed  wildly  here  and  there,  calling  for  some 
one  to  go  after  the  young  lady  and  bring  her  back. 

The  landlord  of  the  tavern  could  give  her  no  help,  and 
indeed  he  scarcely  paid  any  attention  to  her.  It  was  all 
he  could  do  to  keep  the  stranger  who  had  been  left  with- 
out a  horse  from  laying  violent  hands  upon  him.  In  fact, 
had  it  not  been  for  the  presence  of  two  or  three  negroes 
employed  about  the  place,  it  is  probable  that  the  frantic 
assertions  of  the  little  man  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  young  woman's  action,  and  that  he  had  not  the  least 
idea  in  the  world  what  it  meant,  would  not  have  availed 
to  save  him  from  his  angry  accuser. 

When  Dr.  Lester  and  Mr.  Chiverley  returned,  the  latter 
found  his  wife  in  an  utterly  prostrated  condition  on  a  chair 
on  the  piazza;  and  great  as  was  his  concern  at  the  aston- 
ishing thing  that  was  told  him.  he  did  not  stop  to  ask 
questions,  but  hurried  to  her  assistance. 

With  pale  face  and  trembling  hands  Dr.  Lester  listened 
to  the  landlord's  excited  statements.  He  could  not  divine 
the  meaning  of  what  had  happened,  but  he  instantly  de- 
cided what  must  be  done.  Ardis  must  be  followed  with- 
out a  moment's  delay.  It  was  useless  to  speak  to  Mr. 
Chiverley.  He  had  seen  him  carrying  his  wife  into  the 
house,  and  knew  he  could  not  leave  her.  He  hurried  to 
the  stable,  but  was  there  dismayed  by  the  information 
that  the  man  who  had  been  left  horseless  had  quietly  gone 
off  on  the  better  horse  of  the  two  which  had  been  hired 
in  Atlanta.  The  other  animal  was  in  an  utterly  worthless 
condition,  and  there  were  no  other  horses  in  the  stable. 

When  he  discovered  the  situation,  the  doctor,  his  face 
still  pale  but  his  hands  no  longer  trembling,  asked  which 
way  the  lady  had  gone,  and  immediately  set  out  on  foot, 
his  long  strides  carrying  him  nearly  as  rapidly  as  the 
moderate  trot  of  a  horse.  The  occupants  of  a  cabin  near 


288  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

the  fork  of  the  road  told  him  that  the  lady  and  one  man 
had  gone  up  the  road  to  the  left ;  and  this  road  the  doctor 
followed,  sometimes  breaking  into  a  little  run,  and  then 
falling  back  into  his  long,  steady  stride.  His  mind  did 
not  dwell  upon  the  fact  that  only  one  man  had  followed 
Ardis,  nor  at  the  time  did  he  try  to  comprehend  why  any 
man  should  follow  her,  or  why  she  should  take  this  road  or 
that  one,  or  why  she  should  have  gone  away  at  all.  He 
only  considered  that  this  was  the  road  she  had  taken,  and 
that  if  it  were  possible  to  get  along  faster  he  must  do  it. 

For  a  long  time  the  doctor  walked,  and  as  he  walked 
there  gradually  came  into  his  mind  a  dim  notion  of  Ardis' 
motive  in  this  most  extraordinary  proceeding.  He  knew 
she  would  never  hesitate  to  do  the  thing  she  thought  she 
ought  to  do  because  danger  might  accompany  the  doing 
of  it ;  but  he  also  knew  that  she  was  not  one  who  would 
incur  danger  such  as  she  must  have  incurred  that  evening 
unless  there  was  a  very  good  reason  for  it.  Of  course 
the  whole  affair  must,  in  some  way,  be  connected  with 
Roger  Dunworth.  Nothing  else  in  this  part  of  the  world 
could  be  of  sufficient  importance  to  make  her  do  as  she 
had  done  without  a  word  to  any  one.  It  was  possible  that 
she  might  have  heard  that  Roger  was  in  sore  trouble — 
perhaps  about  to  be  hung — and  she  had  taken  the  first 
horse  she  could  meet  with  to  fly  to  his  rescue.  Had  he 
or  Mr.  Chiverley  been  there  she  might  have  spoken  to 
them.  Oh,  why,  oh,  why,  was  he  not  there ! 

As  he  hurried  along  the  doctor  looked  eagerly  ahead 
of  him,  but  no  sign  could  he  see  of  a  female  figure  coming 
toward  him.  His  hope  was  to  come  up  with  Ardis  where 
she  might  stop,  or  to  meet  her  returning.  His  fear  was 
that  some  disaster  to  her  would  permit  him  to  overtake 
her.  He  met  no  one,  and  there  were  but  few  houses  on 
the  road.  At  each  of  these,  however,  he  made  inquiries. 


AKDIS  CLAVIER  DEN.  289 

A  colored  woman  told  him  she  had  seen  a  horse  running 
away  with  somebody  on  his  back. 

"  Was  any  one  following?  "  eagerly  asked  the  doctor. 

"  No,  sah,"  said  the  woman,  "  an'  it  wouldn't  'a'  been  no 
good  if  they  had.  Dey  couldn't  ketch  dat  hoss !  Lawsee ! 
how  he  was  gwine !  I  done  reckon  de  boy  on  he  back  done 
frighten  him  wid  a  bahskit.  Dey's  some  hosses  can't 
stand  no  bahskits  on  dey  backs." 

"  Was  there  a  boy  on  the  horse?  "  asked  the  doctor  in 
surprise. 

"  Can't  say  fer  sartin,  sah,  de  hoss  go  so  fas'.  It  might 
'a'  been  a  boy ;  an'  den  again  it  mought  'a'  been  a  gal ; 
an'  mought  V  been  a  meal  bag  dat  frightened  de  hoss, 
an'  not  a  bahskit." 

The  doctor  staid  for  no  more  surmises,  and  walked  on. 
If  the  figure  on  the  flying  horse  were  really  Ardis,  what 
had  become  of  the  man  who  had  pursued  her  up  the  road? 
The  doctor  had  passed  no  roads  nor  lanes  diverging  from 
the  one  he  was  on ;  and  when,  a  mile  or  two  back,  he  had 
passed  the  break  in  the  fence  through  which  the  man  on 
the  slower  horse  had  joined  his  companion  in  the  fields,  it 
had  offered  him  no  hints  in  regard  to  the  situation. 

When  he  had  mounted  a  long  hill  he  came  upon  a  barn, 
from  an  upper  floor  of  which  a  colored  man  was  throwing 
dry  fodder  to  some  cows  in  a  yard.  The  house  to  which 
the  barn  belonged  was  not  visible,  but  probably  lay  be- 
hind a  mass  of  evergreens  a  quarter  of  a  mile  back  from 
the  road.  When  the  doctor  stopped  at  the  barn  the  man 
stopped  in  his  work.  He  was  an  intelligent  negro,  and 
proved  himself  able  to  give  some  coherent  information. 
He  had  seen  a  girl  riding  like  wildfire  on  a  big  bay  horse ; 
there  was  nobody  following  her;  he  had  been  about  the 
barn  ever  since  she  had  passed,  and  knew  that  she  had 
not  been  followed.  He  supposed  that  she  was  going  for 


290  ARD1S  CLAVERDEN. 

the  doctor.  He  reckoned  she  was  going  after  old  Dr. 
Jessup,  who  lived  at  Hammersville.  There  was  a  doctor 
a  good  deal  nearer,  but  he  reckoned  he'd  gone  away 
somewhere. 

"  Where  is  Hammersville?  "  asked  Dr.  Lester. 

"You  jus'  foller  this  road,"  said  the  negro,  "till  you  git 
to  the  mountain,  an1  den  you  crosses  ober  de  mountain, 
an'  when  you  git  to  de  bottom  lands  you  come  to  a  big 
branch  wid  a  bridge  ober  it,  an'  den  you  keep  straight 
along — can't  make  no  mistake,  sah,  'cause  de  road  don't 
fork — an'  den  yo'  come  to  a  lot  o'  hills,  an'  when  you 
done  gone  ober  dem  you  kin  see  Hammersville  if  it  ain't 
too  dark." 

"And  how  far  is  Hammersville?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  It's  about  twenty  miles  from  here,  sah.  Dat's  wot  dey 
calls  it,  sah." 

The  doctor  stood  silent  a  moment,  and  then,  with  a 
few  words  of  thanks,  passed  on. 

The  negro  looked  after  him.  "Bless  my  soul!"  he 
ejaculated.  "To  put  off  like  dat  jus'  when  I  was  gwine 
ter  ask  him  who  dat  gal  was,  an'  who  was  sick,  an'  what 
he  was  gwine  after  her  fer?  " 

The  doctor  walked  on  for  some  twenty  minutes,  and 
then  he  stopped.  "  Where  is  the  good  of  it?"  he  asked 
himself.  He  had  already  walked  at  a  great  pace  some 
seven  or  eight  miles,  and  this,  too,  after  a  long  tramp 
with  Mr.  Chiverley.  He  was  a  good  pedestrian,  but  he 
could  feel  that  his  strength  was  giving  out.  That  Ardis 
had  gone  to  Hammersville  he  did  not  doubt.  It  was  from 
such  a  little  town  that  she  would  be  likely  to  hear  news 
of  Roger,  and  only  in  such  a  place,  where  there  were 
people  to  be  called  upon,  could  she  render  him  any  as- 
sistance. In  a  case  like  this  she  would  not  hesitate  at  a 
ride  of  twenty-eight  or  thirty  miles ;  tJut  as  for  himself,  it 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


291 


would  be  impossible  for  him  to  walk  to  Hammersville  that 
night.  He  hoped,  he  tried  hard  to  believe,  that  she 
would  reach  her  destination  in  safety;  and  in  a  town  she 
would  certainly  find  persons  to  take  care  of  her.  The 
fact  that  the  men  had  ceased  to  follow  her  was  a  great 
relief  to  him.  He  sat  down  upon  a  stone  to  rest.  It  was 
growing  dark  and  he  could  see  no  house  nor  light  ahead 
of  him.  He  determined  he  would  go  back  to  the  barn 
where  he  had  spoken  to  the  negro  and  ask  the  man  to 
take  him  to  the  house  occupied  by  the  owner  of  the  farm. 
There  he  might  obtain  refreshment,  and  hire  a  horse  and 
vehicle  to  carry  him  to  Hammersville.  But  when  he 
reached  the  barn  he  found  it  deserted ;  the  man  had  gone 
away. 

The  doctor  went  through  a  gate  into  a  roughly  worn 
road  which  he  supposed  would  lead  him  to  the  house,  but 
he  had  not  walked  more  than  a  dozen  .steps  before  he 
suddenly  stopped.  At  a  distance,  and  apparently  from 
the  mass  of  evergreens  which  now  stood  black  against  the 
sky,  he  heard  the  baying  of  a  dog.  Dr.  Lester  was  a 
brave  man,  and  had  done  things  at  which  many  brave 
men  would  hesitate ;  but  the  exception  to  his  bravery  was 
his  fear  of  dogs.  Reason  as  he  might,  and  for  a  few  mo- 
ments he  did  reason  with  great  earnestness,  he  could  not 
prevail  upon  himself  to  go  up  alone  through  the  shades 
of  evening,  to  that  house  around  which  several  fierce 
hounds  might  be  prowling.  He  was  even  afraid  to  stay 
where  he  was  for  fear  they  should  come  upon  him ;  and 
he  made  his  way  back  to  the  barn  as  a  place  of  security. 

The  barn  doors  were  shut  and  fastened,  but  the  doctor 
saw  an  open  window  not  far  from  the  ground,  through 
which  he  clambered.  He  found  himself  in  a  stable,  and 
by  the  faint  light  which  came  through  the  window  he 
could  see  that  it  was  a  large  one,  and  that  there  were  no 


29 2  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

animals  in  it.  He  looked  about  him  a  few  moments  to 
find  a  place  where  he  might  sit  down ;  and  then  he  closed 
the  window-shutter  to  prevent  the  dogs  from  following  him. 
He  now  felt  his  way  to  a  stall  in  which  he  had  noticed  a 
pile  of  hay  or  straw;  on  this  he  sat  down  to  think,  but  he 
had  not  thought  for  five  minutes  before  his  head  fell  for- 
ward, and  he  began  to  doze. 

In  about  an  hour  he  awoke  feeling  very  cold.  He  was 
surrounded  by  pitchy  darkness  and  his  only  thought  was 
to  get  himself  warm.  He  remembered,  while  feeling  his 
way  to  the  stall,  his  hand  had  touched  a  horse  blanket, 
or  some  heavy  cloth  hanging  on  a  nail.  He  groped  about 
for  this,  and  at  length  found  it.  Wrapping  himself  up  in 
it  he  lay  down  upon  the  straw. 

"What  can  I  do?"  he  said  to  himself.  "I  can  do 
nothing  but  wait  until  morning."  And,  while  considering 
what  this  necessjty  might  entail,  he  fell  into  a  heavy  sleep, 
broken  by  anxious  dreams  and  sudden  shiverings.  But 
despite  the  troubled  restlessness  of  his  brain,  and  despite 
the  cold  night  wind  which  came  in  through  the  many 
cracks  and  crevices  of  the  barn,  the  doctor  slept  on.  He 
was  very  tired. 

At  the  tavern  on  the  main  road,  which  had  been  closed 
up  very  early  that  night,  the  little  proprietor  was  sitting 
behind  his  bar,  cleaning  and  loading  a  large  revolver,  and 
bemoaning  his  unparalleled  bad  luck  to  two  of  his  men 
whom  he  had  called  upon  to  spend  the  night  in  the  house 
and  help  him  to  defend  himself  and  his  property  if  the 
need  should  arise.  Such  a  thing  had  never  happened  to 
him  before,  nor  had  it  ever  happened  to  anybody  so  far  as 
he  knew.  Indeed  he  believed  it  to  be  an  unheard  of 
calamity.  To  have  a  horse  stolen  from  before  his  door 
in  broad  daylight,  was  a  blow  to  his  reputation  and  his 
business  which  might  utterly  destroy  both.  And  stolen 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  293 

by  a  girl !  Was  such  a  thing  ever  known  in  this  wide 
world?  What  sort  of  people  these  were  who  had  come 
to  him  as  respectable  guests  he  did  not  know,  and  what 
might  happen  next  he  could  not  imagine ! 

Up-stairs  Mr.  Chiverley  was  sitting  by  his  wife's  bed- 
side. When  night  came  on,  and  Ardis  returned  not,  she 
had  become  hysterical,  and  poor  Harry  Chiverley  had  his 
hands  full.  Chilled  to  the  heart  by  his  fears  for  Ardis, 
fears  which  were  aggravated  by  his  utter  inability  to  un- 
derstand the  situation,  he  could  do  nothing  but  stay  here 
and  help  his  wife  support  the  blow.  It  was  impossible  to 
leave  her.  Under  the  influence  of  an  anodyne  Mrs. 
Chiverley  at  last  slept ;  but  her  husband  did  not  undress, 
nor  close  his  eyes  that  night. 

In  the  little  room  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  in  that 
lonely  house,  to  which,  in  swift  ungovernable  flight,  she 
had  been  brought  by  Roger's  horse,  Ardis  lay  in  happy 
dreams.  Her  mind  was  capable  of  keenly  appreciating 
the  distress  of  the  friends  on  whom  had  fallen  the  sudden 
shock  of  her  unexplained  and  alarming  escapade ;  but  no 
thought  of  all  this  ventured  in  among  the  rosy  fancies 
which  filled  her  sleeping  mind.  Before  her  passed  the 
bright  and  joyous  scenes  of  an  endless  drama  the  title  of 
which  was :  "  Roger  is  coming  I  " 


294  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER     XXX. 

IT  was  very  early  the  next  morning  when  Ardis  was 
awakened  by  some  one  standing  by  her  bed.  It  was 
the  woman  of  the  house. 

"  You'd  better  git  up,"  she  said.     "  He's  come!  " 

'Who?"  exclaimed  Ardis  sitting  up  suddenly. 

"The  owner  of  the  horse — Mr.  Dunworth,"  said  the 
woman.  "  He  come  back  some  time  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  I  don't  know  when ;  an'  it's  a  good  thing  our  man 
Bill  give  a  shout  when  they  got  here,  for  Elick — that's  my 
husband — might  ha'  shot  'em,  for  he  had  his  gun  all  ready, 
an'  his  head  was  full  of  horse  thieves.  Mr.  Dunworth  was 
mightily  tickled  when  he  found  his  horse  had  been 
brought  back,  an'  he's  on  pins  and  needles  to  see  you. 
He's  been  up  half  an  hour." 

Ardis's  face  was  as  rosy  as  her  dreams  of  the  past  night. 

"  Your  sleep  had  freshened  you  up  pow'ful,"  said  the 
woman.  "  You'd  better  come  down  quick." 

Ardis  did  not  answer.  Her  heart  was  beating  fast,  and 
her  dark  eyes,  filled  with  sparkling  light,  were  fixed  upon 

the  wall  opposite  to  her.  "OMrs. !"  she  suddenly 

exclaimed.  And  then  she  stopped.  "Do  you  know  I 
never  thought  to  ask  your  name?"  "It's  Kisley,"  said 
the  woman. 

"  O  Mrs.  Kisley,"  said  Ardis  in  an  entreating  voice, 
"can't  you  lend  me  a  dress  or  a  skirt?  Almost  anything 
will  do  that  is  clean  and  long  enough.  I  can't  go  down  to 
him  in  the  clothes  I  wore  yesterday.  The  skirt  is  dread- 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN,  295 

fully  torn  and  covered  with  mud  splashes.     After  my  last 
night's  ride  I  wasn't  fit  to  be  seen!  " 

"  Oh,  bless  me !  "  said  Mrs.  Kisley,  "  you  needn't  bother 
your  head  about  nothin'  of  that  sort.  He's  none  of  your 
stuck-up  gentlemen.  He's  a  plain,  common-sense  young 
man,  an',  if  he  makes  a  bargain  with  you  for  fetchin'  back 
his  horse  he  won't  take  no  'count  of  what  sort  o'  duds 
you've  got  on." 

"  I  cannot  go  down  to  meet  that  gentleman,"  said 
Ardis,  "in  the  clothes  I  wore  last  night.  Dear  Mrs. 
Kisley,  you  must  lend  me  something  that  will  make  me 
look  at  least  decent." 

"  Well,"  said  the  other,  "  if  you've  set  your  mind  on  it, 
I  s'pose  there's  no  turnin'  you.  You  look  like  a  gal  that's 
in  the  habit  of  havin'  her  own  way.  An'  a  good-lookin' 
one  too!"  she  thought  to  herself,  though  prudently  re- 
fraining from  expressing  this  opinion  aloud.  "  There's 
some  of  my  sister's  clothes  in  that  closet.  She's  sixteen, 
an'  p'raps  they'll  fit  you.  We  haven't  got  no  chillun,  an' 
she  lives  with  us.  But  she's  gone  away  now  to  stay  with 
mother,  an'  that's  the  reason  you  kin  have  this  room, 
which  is  hern.  If  you  kin  find  anything  you  really  want 
you  kin  borry  it,  but  don't  spend  no  time  fixin'  up. 
'Tain't  fair  to  keep  Mr.  Dunworth  waitin'  a  minute  longer 
than  kin  be  helped." 

The  moment  Mrs.  Kisley  left  the  room  Ardis  sprang  to 
the  floor  and  began  an  eager  investigation  of  the  closet. 

She  found  a  pink  calico  dress  of  rather  voluminous  dra- 
pery, but  neat  and  clean ;  and  on  the  floor  was  a  pair  of 
slippers  but  little  worn  and  apparently  outgrown  by  the 
wearer  of  the  gown.  In  a  bureau  drawer  she  discovered 
some  collars  and  cuffs,  and  other  little  articles  belonging 
to  the  holiday  costume  of  the  absent  sister.  With  these 
treasures  she  proceeded  to  make  a  rapid  toilet;  and  this 


296  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

was  barely  finished  when  Mrs.  Kisley  again  entered.  She 
was  not  accustomed  to  knocking,  and  simply  opened  the 
door  and  walked  in.  When  her  eyes  fell  upon  Ardis  she 
gave  a  gasp,  and  sat  down  heavily  upon  a  chair  near  the 
door. 

Well  might  she  sit  in  dumb  amazement.  The  rough, 
unkempt,  and  road-stained  girl  of  the  night  before  had 
changed  into  the  most  beautiful  woman  on  whom  her  eyes 
had  ever  rested.  The  pink  calico  gown,  somewhat  too 
large  for  her,  had  been  draped  and  fastened  about  her 
without  any  regard  to  the  intents  of  its  maker.  A  broad 
belt  formed  of  a  gray  silk  scarf  held  it  around  her  waist, 
and  a  lace-trimmed  handkerchief  was  pinned  into  a  bow 
at  her  throat,  while  the  neat  slippers  showed  beneath  the 
simple  folds  into  which  the  skirt  had  been  quickly  drawn. 

But  the  glory  of  this  apparition  was  the  hair.  Here  was 
the  crowning,  transforming  touch.  Under  the  unshapen 
felt  hat  the  "gal"  of  the  night  before  had  had  a  tightly 
packed  mass  of  hair  which  was  no  more  likely  to  attract 
attention  than  the  ordinary  hair  of  a  boy.  Now  the  dark 
mass  combed  out  and  coiled  at  the  top  of  the  head,  with 
airy  little  curls  playing  over  the  forehead,  not  only  was  a 
beauty  in  itself,  but  it  gave  to  the  face  that  full  measure 
of  loveliness  which  made  it  the  face  of  Ardis  Claverden. 

Ardis  smiled  as  she  looked  upon  the  dazed  countenance 
of  Mrs.  Kisley.  "  You  think  I  am  a  good  deal  changed, 
don't  you?  "  she  said. 

"Changed!  "  ejaculated  the  woman,  "I  should  say  so! 
At  first  I  thought  you'd  been  doing  something  to  yourself, 
but  now  I  reckon  you've  only  been  undoin'.  You  must 
look  like  that  always,  don't  you?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Ardis,  "  as  I  am  a  woman  I  like  to  look 
one,  except  on  special  occasions  when  I  don't  object  to 
being  considered  a  girl." 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  297 

"But  you  don't  belong  to  no — to  no  horse  people?1' 
said  Mrs.  Kisley. 

Ardis  did  not  understand  what  this  meant,  but  she  felt 
that  it  was  necessary  that  she  should,  in  a  measure  at  least, 
explain  the  situation  to  Mrs.  Kisley.  "I  will  tell  you 
after  a  while,"  she  said,  "  how  I  happened  to  come  here 
on  Mr.  Dunworth's  horse.  But  I  must  go  down  to  him 
now  and  I  caa  only  say  to  you  that  he  is  a  very  dear 
friend  of  mine,  and  I  wish  to  see  him  by  himself." 

"Are  you  goin'  to  marry  him?"  asked  Mrs.  Kisley. 

This  blunt  question  brought  a  quick  flush  to  the  face  of 
Ardis,  but  it  also  brought  a  flash  of  light  into  her  eyes,  and 
a  half-smile  to  her  lips. 

"You  needn't  say  nuthin',"  said  Mrs.  Kisley.  "I 
know!" 

Ardis  hurried  down-stairs.  As  she  opened  the  door 
which  led  into  the  living-room  below  stairs,  Roger  Dun- 
worth  stood  with  his  back  toward  her  and  his  hand 
upon  the  latch  of  an  outer  door.  He  had  grown  tired  of 
waiting  for  the  person  who  had  brought  his  horse,  and  was 
going  out  to  the  barn.  At  the  sound  of  the  opening  door 
he  turned;  and  then  with  a  sudden  start,  he  stepped 
back,  his  shoulders  striking  the  wall;  his  face  flushed,  and 
his  mouth  opened  as  if  he  would  explain,  but  no  sound 
passed  his  lips. 

Ardis  closed  the  door  behind  her.  "  How  do  you  do, 
Roger? "  she  said,  advancing  with  outstretched  hand. 
"You  look  more  astonished  than  Mrs.  Kisley!" 

Roger  made  a  step  forward.  "You!"  he  gasped 
"Ardis?  Here?" 

"  Yes,"  said  she,  "  it  is  I ;  Ardis ;  here.  Don't  you  in- 
tend to  shake  hands  with  me?  And  now  sit  down,  and  I 
will  tell  you  the  whole  thing  as  fast  as  ever  I  can." 

Roger  mechanically  sat  down  upon  a  chair  which  Ardis 


298  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

pushed  toward  him  while  she  took  another  near  by  and 
began  rapidly  to  sketch  out  the  story  of  her  coming.  At 
first  Roger  scarcely  comprehended  a  word  that  she  said. 
His  brain  was  filled  with  whirling  thought  which  seemed 
impossible  to  catch  or  recognize  that  this  was  the  woman 
who  had  cast  him  off;  that  this  was  Ardis  Claverden; 
that  she  was  here  in  this  wild  spot  alone;  that  she  had 
brought  his  horse !  His  reason  could  not  cope  with  any 
of  these  ideas.  They  raged  upon  him  like  beasts  that 
had  broken  from  their  cages. 

But  in  a  very  short  time  the  clear,  straightforward  story 
told  by  Ardis  began  to  impress  itself  upon  him,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  he  knew  how  it  was  that  she  had  come 
here.  But  there  was  something  more  difficult  to  compre- 
hend than  this. 

"  I  don't  understand,"  he  said  interrupting  her  before 
she  had  finished,  "why  should  you  come?  And  for  me? 
What  of  him  ?  Does  he  know?  " 

Ardis  rose  to  her  feet.  "  Roger  Dunworth,"  said  she, 
"you  are  thinking  of  Mr.  Surrey!  We  will  not  talk  of  him 
now,  but  I  will  simply  say  that  everything  you  have 
thought  of,  or  done  in  regard  to  him  is  utterly  without 
reason  or  foundation.  I  expected  Dr.  Lester  to  tell  you 
this  and  explain  the  whole  matter  to  you ;  now  I  may  do 
it  myself,  but  that  can  wait.  It  is  enough  for  you  to  know 
that  it  is  all  a  mistake."' 

For  an  instant  the  mind  of  Roger  Dunworth  turned 
back  to  those  things  about  which  he  was  asked  to  con- 
sider himself  mistaken,  but  it  could  not  stay  there.  Look- 
ing at  Ardis  Claverden  as  she  now  stood  before  him,  he 
could  not  think  of  her  anywhere  else,  nor  with  any  one 
else.  That  she  was  here  was  everything  just  now. 

He  rose  and  stood  before  her.  A  sudden  fire  ran 
through  every  nerve.  "  Ardis,"  he  said,  "  you  would  not 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  299 

have  done  all  this ;  you  would  not  have  come  down  here 
— for  my  sake — if  you  had  not  loved  me !  " 

The  eyes  of  Ardis  fell.  How  suddenly  people  came  to 
this  point!  Even  Mrs.  Kisley  jumped  at  it.  But  this  was 
no  time  for  delays  and  preparations.  Things  came 
quickly  and  must  be  met  quickly.  She  raised  her  eyes  to 
his.  They  were  very  beautiful  eyes,  with  a  sparkle  in  them. 

"  Of  course  not,"  she  said. 

Mrs.  Kisley,  who  was  looking  through  the  keyhole  of 
the  inner  door,  now  began  to  shed  some  gentle  tears. 
These  were  caused  by  recollections.  Not  that  anything 
had  ever  happened  to  her  like  that  which  was  happening 
on  the  other  side  of  the  door,  for  Elick  Kisley  was  not 
that  sort  of  man ;  but  her  youth  had  not  so  long  passed 
but  that  she  could  easily  remember  it,  and  her  recollec- 
tions were  of  things  which  she  used  to  dream  about,  and 
which  she  hoped  would  some  day  happen  to  her,  but 
which  never  did. 

She  soon  ceased  to  look.  One  cannot  see  very  well 
through  a  keyhole  when  one's  eyes  are  filled  with  tears. 
She  stepped  softly  to  the  stairs  and  sitting  upon  the 
lower  step,  she  wiped  her  eyes  with  the  back  of  her  hand. 
Then  she  arose.  "  I  must  go  and  find  Elick,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "  an'  keep  him  from  comin'  in  to  the  house.  He 
mustn't  come  in  just  yet" 

She  went  noiselessly  out  of  a  side  door,  and  found  her 
husband  in  the  barn.  There  she  told  him  everything  that 
had  happened  from  the  transformation  scene  to  the  en- 
rapturing finale.  "You  must  wait  awhile,"  she  said,  "an' 
then  you  must  make  a  noise  outside  before  you  go  in. 
An'  you  mustn't  go  in  without  your  coat  on,  Elick. 
Bless  my  soul!  Never  in  all  your  life  was  you  in  the 
same  house  with  such  a  woman  as  she  is!  " 

Elick  Kisley  was  very  much  impressed  by  what  he  had 


300  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

heard.  He  did  not  exactly  comprehend  what  had  taken 
place,  but  he  knew  there  was  a  lady  in  his  house  before 
whom  he  must  not  appear  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  Persons  in 
whose  presence  he  was  obliged  to  wear  a  coat  always  had 
a  very  depressing  effect  upon  him. 

"  I  must  go  an'  see  about  the  breakfas',"  said  Mrs. 
Kisley,  "  I  reckon  they  must  be  about  through  now." 

And    Mrs.    Kisley  hurried   to   the    kitchen,  her  mind 
.  troubled  as  she  went  for  fear  that  the  colored  girl  she  had 
left  there  had  been  peeping  in  upon  the  lovers. 

A  little  later  Mrs.  Kisley,  after  some  preliminary  fum- 
bling at  the  latch  of  the  door  between  the  kitchen  and  the 
living-room,  as  if  it  were  an  unfamiliar  latch  and  she  did 
not  know  exactly  how  it  worked,  opened  said  door,  and 
remarked :  "  We  are  goin'  to  bring  in  breakfas'  now,  an' 
I  reckon  you  all's  about  ready  for  it." 

Ardis  and  Roger  were  sitting  side  by  side,  a  little  apart. 
Her  hands  were  in  her  lap,  but  the  arm  of  Roger  nearest 
Ardis  hung  by  his  side  as  if  it  had  been  suddenly  dropped. 

"  Breakfast !  "  said  Ardis  starting  to  her  feet.  "  You 
may  be  sure  I  am  ready  for  it,  for  I  have  not  had  any 
regular  meal  since  yesterday  in  the  middle  of  the  day. 
And,  Roger,  just  as  soon  as  possible  after  breakfast  we 
must  get  back  in  some  way  or  other  to  the  tavern  where 
Dr.  Lester  and  the  Chiverleys  are.  I  really  do  not  dare 
to  think  of  the  state  of  anxiety  they  must  be  in !  But  I 
am  sure  their  delight  in  seeing  you  safe  and  sound  will 
make  amends  for  all  their  worry." 

When  Mr.  Kisley  came  in  to  breakfast  he  gave  one 
glance  at  Ardis,  and  then  with  downcast  eyes  went  up  to 
her  and  shook  hands  as  if  she  had  just  arrived.  His 
well-worn  coat  was  buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  and  his  long, 
black  hair,  thoroughly  wet  and  combed  and  plastered  down, 
hung  in  stiff  perpendicularity  around  his  head.  He  said 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  301 

but  little  as  he  sat  at  the  table,  but  now  and  again  he 
heaved  a  heavy  sigh.  Not  that  there  was  anything  the 
matter  with  him,  but  that  he  must  show  in  some  way  that 
he  felt  at  home,  and  this  was  the  most  off-hand  action  that 
came  into  his  mind  at  the  time. 

In  the  course  of  the  somewhat  hurried  meal  Roger 
made  an  arrangement  with  his  host  for  a  light  wagon  in 
which  he  and  Miss  Claverden  could  go  to  the  tavern 
where  their  friends  were  staying.  His  own  horse  would 
draw  them  and  the  negro  man  could  be  sent  later  with 
another  horse  to  bring  back  the  wagon. 

When  Ardis  had  pushed  back  her  chair  from  the  break- 
fast table,  she  took  Mrs.  Kisley  aside.  "  I  must  go  up- 
stairs and  put  on  my  own  clothes,"  she  said,  "and  per- 
haps you  will  help  me  get  them  into  decent  order." 

Mrs.  Kisley  assured  her  that  she  might  wear  Malvina's 
garments  as  long  as  she  liked,  but  Ardis  declined  this 
offer.  A  stitch  or  two  and  some  brushing  would  make 
her  own  clothes  do  very  well. 

"Oh,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Kisley,  vigorously  brushing  a 
dirty  skirt.  "  Those  duds  are  good  enough  for  trav'hV, 
but  I  don't  wonder  you  wanted  somethin'  better  to  pop  in 
on  a  sweetheart  with.  And  how  did  you  know  he  was 
here?  An'  where  did  you  git  the  horse?  " 

As  the  brushing,  the  stitching,  and  the  change  of  attire 
went  rapidly  on,  Ardis  gave  Mrs.  Kisley  an  outline  of 
what  had  occurred,  and  no  invented  story  could  have  so 
completely  amazed  that  good  woman. 

When  Roger  came  into  the  house  to  say  that  the  vehicle 
was  ready,  he  found  Ardis  sitting  in  the  living-room. 
"Oho!  "  he  cried.  "  Here  is  another  young  lady!  And 
where  in  the  world  have  you  come  from?  " 

"  I  came  from  Bald  Hill,"  said  Ardis,  demurely  casting 
down  her  eyes,  "  and  these  are  the  clothes  I  used  to  wear 


302  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

when  I  went  tramping  around  the  country  with  a  young 
man  in  our  neighborhood  looking  for  things  to  sketch." 

How  well  Roger  remembered  her  in  that  dress!  How 
well  he  remembered  those  days  of  tramping  and  sketch- 
ing !  "And  this  little  girl,"  said  he,  "  is  she  of  the  same 
way  of  thinking  as  the  young  lady  I  met  this  morning?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Ardis,  "they  think  very  much  alike,  and 
although  you  cannot  have  the  pleasure  of  helping  the 
other  one  into  your  wagon,  this  one  will  pop  in  without 
any  help  at  all  if  you  are  not  very  quick,  sir." 

As  they  were  taking  leave  Mrs.  Kisley  drew  Ardis 
aside.  "  It's  no  use  tryin' ;  you  can't  do  it ;  clothes  won't 
do  it;  nothin'  won't  do  it;  you  can't  never  make  yourse'f 
the  gal  you  was  las'  night." 

"Why?"  asked  Ardis  gently. 

" On  account  o'  him"  said  Mrs.  Kisley,  nodding  in  the 
direction  of  Roger. 

Ardis  made  no  answer,  but  drew  close  to  Mrs.  Kisley 
and  kissed  her.  Tears  came  into  Mrs.  Kisley's  eyes, 
and  when  the  two  had  driven  away  she  went  and  sat  down 
on  the  bottom  step  near  the  keyhole  through  which  she 
had  seen  what  she  used  to  dream  about.  To  her  this 
would  henceforth  be  the  one  spot  beloved  in  all  the  house. 

Her  thoughts  were  suddenly  summoned  from  their  wan- 
derings by  the  voice  of  her  husband,  and  she  rose  quickly 
and  went  into  the  living-room.  Mr.  Kisley  still  wore  his 
coat,  his  hair  remained  plastered  down,  and  his  air  of  de- 
pression had  not  entirely  left  him. 

"Look  here,"  said  he,  "whar  did  she  git  them  clothes? 
She  didn't  bring  no  baggage." 

"  They  was  Malvina's  clothes,"  said  Mrs.  Kisley. 

"Malvina's  clothes!"  exclaimed  her  husband.  "An' 
if  she  had  'em,  why  on  airth  did  she  never  wear  'em?  " 

Mrs.  Kisley  knew  that  the  clothes  had  been  often  worn, 
but  they  had  been  worn  by  Malvina. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  303 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

IT  was  still  early  in  the  morning  when  Roger  Dunworth 
.  and  Ardis  left  the  abode  of  the  Kisleys.  Biscay,  who 
was  not  used  to  doing  work  between  shafts  and  objected 
to  even  a  light  wagon,  showed  a  decided  disinclination  to 
accommodate  himself  to  circumstances ;  but  when  he  be- 
came convinced  that  the  reins  were  in  the  hands  of  a  man 
who  was  determined  to  have  his  own  way  in  the  matter, 
he  set  off  at  a  bounding  trot,  thinking  probably  that  the 
faster  he  went  the  sooner  he  would  get  through  with  this 
disagreeable  business.  The  horse  could  not  go  too  fast 
for  those  who  rode  behind  him.  These  two  had  done 
very  much  in  the  brief  part  of  the  morning  which  had 
passed,  and  now  they  wished  to  go  with  all  haste  to  make 
their  friends  as  happy  as  themselves. 

On  the  way  Roger  told  his  story.  It  seemed  a  very 
simple  and  unimportant  one  to  him  compared  to  that 
which  Ardis  had  told.  On  his  reasons  for  going  from 
home  he  touched  but  lightly.  To  his  mind  it  had  ap- 
peared that  every  one  must  know  as  well  as  he  knew  it 
that  it  was  an  absolute  impossibility  for  him  to  stay  there 
and  see  Ardis  happy  with  another. 

During  the  latter  part  of  his  exile  he  had  begun — or 
thought  he  had  begun — to  inure  his  soul  to  what  it  had 
to  expect  for  the  rest  of  his  life ;  and  his  wanderings  had 
had  for  an  object  what  Dr.  Lester  had  surmised.  If  he 
could  have  found  a  place  in  this  part  of  the  country  which 
pleased  him,  he  would  have  been  glad  to  buy  it,  lease  his 
old  home,  and  make  an  abiding  place  in  which  he  believed 


304  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

it  would  be  wiser  for  him  to  live  than  m  the  house  where 
it  had  been  the  aim  of  his  manhood  to  live  with  Ardis. 

It  was  so  plain  from  what  he  said,  and  from  the  straight- 
forward earnest  way  in  which  he  said  it,  that  to  live  with 
Ardis  was  the  only  life  which  he  thought  worth  living  that 
the  soul  of  the  girl  beside  him  glowed  with  gladness  be- 
cause she  had  been  steadfast  in  her  purpose  and  because 
he  now  knew  that  he  was  to  spend  his  life  with  her. 
Much  had  happened — it  seemed  as  if  years  had  passed — 
since  he  had  told  his  love  and  received  no  answer.  But 
she  had  had  faith  that  when  she  came  to  him  with  her 
answer  she  would  find  him  steadfast.  And  she  had  found 
him  so. 

Regarding  the  mistakes  he  had  made  Roger  said  noth- 
ing at  all.  Ardis  had  assured  him  that  they  were  mis- 
takes, and  that  was  the  end  of  it.  Even  to  think  of  them 
made  his  soul  shiver;  to  speak  of  them  was  unnecessary 
torture.  A  man  as  happy  as  he  was  could  afford  to  bury 
such  dead  things  in  a  very  deep  grave,  and  to  leave  the 
spot  without  stone  or  mark. 

He  had  been  at  Kisley's  for  a  week,  and  had  expected 
in  a  day  or  two  to  start  thence  on  his  way  toward  Atlanta. 
But  the  theft  of  his  horse  had  changed  all  his  plans,  and 
it  had  been  his  intention  to  go  this  morning  in  search  of 
Biscay  in  a  direction  which  would  have  taken  him  far 
away  from  the  friends  who  were  looking  for  him. 

As  to  the  pursuit  of  himself  as  a  horse  thief  he  had 
never  known  of  it  until  Ardis  told  him  that  morning. 
What  might  have  happened  to  him  in  this  almost  wild 
region  made  his  heart  shudder ;  what  had  happened  made 
it  bound  with  joy  and  pride.  He  turned  to  Ardis,  and 
took  her  hand.  They  were  on  an  open  road,  and  he  could 
only  take  her  hand. 

And  so  Biscay  trotted  vigorously  and  rapidly  onward, 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  305 

often  breaking  into  a  run,  from  which,  however,  he  was 
quickly  brought  up  by  Roger ;  and  although  the  road  was 
not  altogether  a  smooth  one,  little  cared  the  two  young 
people,  sitting  side  by  side  on  the  single  seat  of  the  light 
wagon,  for  jolts  and  bumps.  They  had  come  from  roads 
which  were  rough  and  hard  to  one  which  in  the  minds  of 
these  happy  lovers  lay  before  them  as  smooth  as  the  sur- 
face of  a  placid  lake  and  the  occasional  ruts  and  stones 
of  the  actual  way  beneath  them  were  as  nothing. 

The  rattling  noise  of  a  rapidly  passing  vehicle  awoke 
Dr.  Lester,  who  sat  up  suddenly  on  his  pile  of  straw  and 
shivered  as  he  looked  vacantly  about  him.  For  a  few 
moments  the  only  thing  of  which  his  mind  was  positive 
was  that  he  was  very  cold;  but  just  as  it  began  to  dawn 
upon  him  why  he  was  there  the  negro  man  whom  he  had 
seen  the  night  before  looked  in  at:  the  stable  door. 

"  It's  right  smart  late,  sah,  to  wake  you  up,  sah,  but  you 
did  sleep  so  soun'  dat  I  couldn't  bear  to  'sturb  you." 

"  I  was  very  tired,"  said  the  doctor,  throwing  off  his 
blanket,  and  rising  to  his  feet. 

"  If  you'd  come  up  to  de  house,  sah,"  said  the  negro, 
"  dey'd  gibe  you  a  good  bed,  but  I  'spect  you  was  afraid 
ob  de  dogs." 

The  doctor  nodded,  and  the  man  continued. 

"Dem  dogs  does  keep  off  tramps,  an'  watermelon 
thieves,  an'  'spectable  pussons,  all  in  a  lump.  I'd  ha'  took 
you  up  myself  if  I'd  ha'  known  you  was  gwine  ter  stop. 
But  wot  I  come  in  to  wake  you  up  an'  tell  you,  sah,  is  dat 
de  young  'ooman  who  rode  by  las'  night,  an'  wot  you  was 
lookin'  for,  has  jus'  gone  back  ag'in  in  a  wagon  wid  a 
strange  doctor — at  least  I  neber  seed  him  afore.  So  I 
reckon,  sah,  dat  if  de  sick  pusson  didn't  die  in  de  night 
he'll  be  all  right  now,  an'  you  kin  make  your  min'  easy 
about  him." 
20 


306  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

After  some  earnest  and  rapid  inquiries  the  doctor  be- 
came convinced  that  Ardis  was  really  on  her  way  back  to 
the  inn,  although  in  whose  company  he  could  not  imagine. 
He  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  explain  to  the  negro  that 
she  had  not  gone  after  a  doctor  and  declining  the  man's 
invitation  to  go  to  the  house  and  get  some  breakfast,  he 
prepared  to  follow  the  wagon. 

"  It's  a  mighty  bad  shame,  sah,''  said  the  negro,  "  dat 
dey  didn't  know  you  was  in  heah,  fur  dey  might  ha'  stopped 
an'  took  you  into  de  waggin.  Whar  is  you  gwine,  sah?  " 

The  doctor  mentioned  the  tavern  where  he  had  stopped 
the  day  before,  and  then  the  man  told  him  of  a  road 
through  the  woods  which  would  save  him  at  least  two 
miles  of  walking.  And,  with  a  gratuity  to  the  good-inten- 
tioned  negro,  he  set  out  on  his  return  to  his  party. 

When  he  reached  the  point  which  had  been  indicated 
to  him  Dr.  Lester  climbed  a  fence  and  took  a  foot-path 
through  the  woods.  He  was  not  in  a  happy  mood.  He 
did  not  experience  the  relief  from  anxiety  and  consequent 
elevation  of  spirits  which,  as  might  naturally  be  supposed, 
would  come  to  him  from  a  knowledge  of  Ardis's  safety.  If 
his  legs  had  not  been  so  stiff;  if  his  whole  body  had  not  felt 
so  chilled  that  even  exercise  did  not  warm  him,  if  he  had 
had  anything  to  eat  since  the  middle  of  the  day  before, 
his  mind  might  have  been  in  a  more  hopeful  condition. 

The  negro's  statement  that  he  had  seen  Ardis  go  back 
in  a  wagon  was  reason  enough  to  make  the  doctor  hasten 
to  the  inn  without  even  the  delay  of  a  proffered  breakfast. 
But  the  man  might  have  been  mistaken ;  and  even  if  it  were 
she  who  was  taken  back  in  the  wagon,  the  doctor's  mind 
was  racked  by  thoughts  that  she  might  now  be  plunged  in 
grief,  and  going  back  with  the  saddest  news  to  tell. 

The  morning  sky  was  covered  with  an  unbroken  expanse 
of  grayish  clouds,  and  although  these  had  seemed  to  shine 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  307 

upon  the  lovers  in  the  light  wagon  as  if  they  had  been 
polished  steel,  they  presented  no  such  appearance  to  Dr. 
Lester.  Their  gray  gloom  helped  to  sadden  a  world  which 
already  seemed  gloomy  enough  to  this  anxious,  shivering, 
weary,  true-hearted  gentleman. 

After  walking  about  half  a  mile,  the  doctor  came  to  a 
little  stream,  and  he  had  scarcely  stepped  across  it  to 
follow  the  path  which  led  around  the  roots  of  a  great  oak- 
tree  upon  the  other  side,  when  he  was  suddenly  confronted 
by  two  men.  He  stopped  short.  The  men  were  respect- 
ably dressed,  although  their  clothes  were  spattered  with 
mud  and  their  soft  felt  hats  were  pulled  down  over  their 
faces.  They  were  silent,  and  neither  of  them  moved 
limb  or  muscle.  Even  the  cold  morning  wind  which  blew 
down  the  little  stream  did  not  sway  them  as  they  hung 
side  by  side  from  an  outstretching  limb  of  the  great  oak- 
tree.  On  the  coat  of  one  of  them  was  pinned  a  paper  on 
which  were  printed  with  a  lead  pencil  these  words : 

"  Hung  for  horse  stealing.     Look  out,  other  fellow.' 

There  was  no  signature. 

For  a  moment  the  doctor  stood  appalled,  a  cold  mois- 
ture bursting  out  upon  his  hands  and  upon  his  pallid  face. 
Then  a  horrible  sickening  fear  came  over  him.  Could  one 
of  these  be  the  man  for  whom  Ardis  had  come  down  here 
to  search? 

The  inscription  on  the  paper  had  been  read  at  a  glance, 
for  the  characters  were  large  and  distinct,  but  a  glance 
was  not  enough  to  prove  to  the  trembling  doctor  that 
neither  of  these  men  was  Roger  Dunworth. 

A  minute  later  the  doctor  staggered  away.  The  effects 
of  the  shock  were  still  upon  him,  but  this  horrible  fear 
had  been  uplifted  from  his  soul.  The  men  were  strangers 
to  him. 

Now  there  came  upon  Dr.  Lester  a  wild  desire  to  get 


308  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

away ;  and  he  began  to  run,  and  did  not  slacken  his  pace 
until  he  was  out  of  the  woods  and  on  the  main  road.  A 
suspicion  that  the  danger  might  not  yet  be  over,  and  that 
the  "  other  fellow  "  mentioned  in  the  inscription  might  be 
Roger,  came  upon  him  as  he  walked  rapidly  onward,  but 
further  consideration  made  him  hope  and  almost  believe 
that  the  three  horsemen  of  whom  he  had  heard  but  had 
not  seen,  and  on  one  of  whose  horses  Ardis  had  gone 
away,  were,  in  reality,  the  thieves ;  and  before  he  reached 
the  inn  his  mind  had  begun  to  quiet  itself  from  the  tumult 
into  which  it  had  been  thrown  by  what  he  had  seen  in  the 
woods.  But  his  anxiety  for  Ardis  could  not  be  quieted 
until  he  had  looked  on  her,  safe  and  sound. 

When  Dr.  Lester  entered  the  parlor  of  the  tavern  he 
was  greeted  with  a  loud  shout  from  Roger  Dunworth  who 
sprang  forward  to  meet  him  and  seized  him  by  both  hands. 
To  Roger's  expressions  of  hearty  delight  the  doctor  made 
no  answer.  Tears  came  into  his  eyes,  and  he  sat  down 
upon  the  nearest  chair.  On  the  other  side  of  the  room 
he  saw  Ardis,  bright  as  a  star  in  heaven.  Near  by  sat 
Mrs.  Chiverley,  a  little  pale  from  the  turmoils  of  the  night, 
but  with  a  smile  of  happiest  content  upon  her  pretty  face. 
Mr.  Chiverley  laid  down  the  paper  on  which  he  had  been 
making  a  sketch  from  the  window,  and  came  forward  in 
gayest  mood. 

"What  on  earth  did  you  do  with  yourself  last  night?" 
he  cried.  "  We  were  beginning  to  think  that  you  would 
have  to  be  hunted  up." 

The  doctor  did  not  answer,  but  turned  to  Roger. 
"  Was  it  you  then,"  he  asked,  "  who  returned  with  Miss 
Ardis  in  a  wagon?" 

"Yes,"  said  Roger,  "did  you  see  us?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  doctor,  his  words  coming  from  him  in 
a  low  tone  and  slowly,  "  but  I  was  told  of  it." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


3°9 


"It  was  too  bad,  doctor,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Chiverley, 
"  that  you  were  not  here  when  they  came  back !  I  de- 
clare to  you  that  this  dreary  looking  country  seemed  like 
heaven  when  I  saw  those  two  sitting  together  in  the  wagon ! 
If  you  had  been  here,  doctor,  the  situation  would  have 
been  perfect." 

The  doctor  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  he  said:  "I 
wish  I  had  been  here." 

Ardis  now  rose  from  her  seat  and  approached  him, 
"  Dr.  Lester,"  said  she,  "have  you  had  any  breakfast?  " 

The  doctor  looked  up  at  her  and  shook  his  head.  Then, 
without  another  word,  she  went  out  of  the  room. 

"No  breakfast!"  cried  Mrs.  Chiverley.  "You  must 
be  hungry !  We  breakfasted  an  hour  ago ;  and  we  were 
only  waiting  for  your  return  to  start  back  to  Atlanta." 

"And  in  twenty  minutes  by  the  clock,"  said  Roger,  "if 
you  had  not  appeared  by  that  time,  I  should  have  been 
off  in  search  of  you." 

Shortly  afterward,  as  Dr.  Lester  was  eating  a  hastily 
prepared  breakfast  at  a  corner  of  the  dining-room  table, 
Ardis  came  in  and  sat  down  by  him.  "  Doctor,"  she  said, 
"where  did  you  stay  last  night?  " 

"  At  a  house  by  the  roadside,"  he  promptly  replied. 

"  How  far  was  it  from  here?  " 

"  I  really  do  not  know,"  said  the  doctor. 

"And  did  you  walk  all  the  way  there  and  back?"  she 
asked. 

"  Of  course,"  he  said.  "  You  know  our  good  horse  was 
taken."  He  spoke  now  with  more  strength  and  anima- 
tion. The  sense  of  thankfulness  and  peace  was  called 
forth  as  much  by  hot  coffee  as  by  the  knowledge  that  all 
was  well. 

Ardis  sat  and  looked  at  him  for  a  few  moments  as  he 
ate.  She  was  about  to  ask  another  question  when  she 


3io  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

heard  the  footsteps  of  some  one  approaching.  "  I  want 
to  tell  you,  doctor,"  she  said  quickly,  "that  all  is  right 
between  Roger  and  me." 

"I  knew  that,"  he  said,  "as  soon  as  I  came  in." 
An  hour  afterward  our  party  set  out  for  Atlanta.  It 
was  unfortunate  to  be  obliged  to  leave  without  the  horse 
which  had  been  stolen  from  them,  but  his  recovery  was 
so  exceedingly  doubtful  that  they  preferred  to  go  without 
him,  and  to  pay  his  value  to  the  man  from  whom  he  had 
been  hired,  rather  than  to  submit  to  delay  on  his  account. 
The  disabled  horse  seemed  now  somewhat  freshened  up, 
and  Biscay  was  attached  to  one  of  the  buggies.  But  as 
there  were  now  five  persons  in  the  party,  and  places  for 
only  four,  it  was  decided  that  the  gentlemen  should  take 
turns  in  walking.  It  would  be  necessary  to  go  slowly  if 
they  expected  to  keep  their  poorer  horse  in  a  condition  to 
finish  the  trip.  But  during  that  day  Dr.  Lester  did  not 
walk  a  step ;  Ardis  would  not  permit  it.  When  his  turn 
came  she  took  his  place,  and  as  Roger  walked  with  her,  the 
horses  were  a  good  deal  relieved. 

On  the  way  the  doctor  was  told  everything  that  had 
happened,  and  the  more  he  heard  the  more  firmly  he  de- 
termined not  to  mention  what  he  had  seen  in  the  woods. 
In  turning  the  matter  over  and  over  in  his  mind  he  came 
to  believe  that  the  great  oak-tree  in  the  forest  would  not 
have  borne  the  weight  which  now  slightly  bent  its  out- 
stretched limb  had  not  Ardis  recognized  Roger's  horse 
and  ridden  him  away.  In  their  mad  pursuit  after  this 
valuable  animal  they  had  recklessly  gone  back  in  the 
direction  from  which  they  had  come  and  with  utterly 
worn-out  horses  had  easily  fallen  into  the  hands  of  the 
men,  who  with  determined  and  vengeful  purpose  were 
following  them  in  the  dark  hours  of  the  night.  That  one 
of  them  escaped  was  doubtless  due  to  the  fact  that  Ardis 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  311 

had  taken  the  horse  he  had  ridden,  and  that  the  hired 
animal  he  had  abstracted  from  the  tavern  stable  was 
not  able  to  keep  up  with  the  blooded  steeds  of  his  com- 
panions. Almost  certain  it  was  that  but  for  Ardis's  inter- 
est in  horses,  her  powers  of  quick  recognition,  and  her 
habit  of  equally  quick  action,  the  weights  which  bent  the 
long  oak  limb  would  now  be  riding  on  their  way  in  stal- 
wart health,  and  cheery  mood.  All  this  was  so  clear  to 
the  doctor,  that  he  knew  it  would  be  equally  clear  to  Ardis, 
and  therefore  she  must  never  know  it.  And  that  it 
might  not  by  any  chance  word  come  to  her  knowledge,  he 
would  speak  of  it  to  no  one. 


312  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ON  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  Ardis  and  her 
party  reached  the  little  tavern  in  Georgia,  the  philoso- 
phizer  Bonetti  was  walking  on  the  road  between  his  house 
and  Bolton  when  he  met  Mr.  Tom  Prouter.  The  latter 
was  in  his  dog  cart,  and  was  coming  rapidly  from  the 
direction  of  Bald  Hill. 

"How-d'ye-do,  Bonnet?"  he  cried,  pulling  up  his  horse 
with  a  jerk.  "  Do  you  know  anything  about  Mr.  Dun- 
worth?  Or  where  a  man  could  find  him,  or  write  to  him? 
I  have  been  to  see  Dr.  Lester,  but  he  has  gone  away,  no- 
body knows  where,  and  I  stopped  at  the  Dunworth  place, 
but  Parchester  and  the  others  haven't  a  notion  in  their 
heads  about  him.  And  Major  Claverden,  where  I  stopped 
and  took  dinner,  cannot  tell  me  anything;  even  Miss 
Claverden  is  away." 

"  You  don't  suppose  she  could  tell  you  anything,  do 
you?"  asked  Bonetti. 

"  I  don't  suppose  she  could,"  said  Prouter,  "  but  I 
should  like  to  have  the  chance  of  asking  her  that  or  any- 
thing else.  I  tell  you,  Bonnet,  this  country  is  getting  to 
be  a  regular  desert." 

"  It  does  look  a  little  that  way,"  said  Bonetti.  "  But 
what  started  you  up  to  be  so  sharp  after  Mr.  Dunworth?  " 

"  I  want  to  sell  him  my  milk  route,"  said  Prouter.  "  The 
confounded  thing  has  got  to  be  sold,  or  I  shall  be  ruined, 
body,  pocket,  and  mind ;  and  I  have  got  down  to  the  be- 
lief now  that  he  is  the  only  man  in  this  part  of  the  world 
who  is  likely  to  buy  it." 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  313 

"  Because  he  is  the  only  one  you  haven't  asked?  "  said 
Bonetti. 

"  That  may  be  part  of  it,"  said  Prouter,  "  but  the  more  I 
think  of  it  the  more  I  believe  that  he  is  the  man.  He 
has  plenty  of  grazing  land,  and  he  might  as  well  take  the 
cows  as  not.  I'll  sell  them  to  him  as  cheap  as  dirt,  and 
throw  in  all  the  milk  pans,  churns,  and  every  other  con- 
founded thing  that  belongs  to  the  business.  If  I  once 
see  him  I  can  put  the  matter  before  him  so  that  he  cannot 
help  jumping  at  the  bargain.  By  George,  Bonnet,  I'd  give 
ten  dollars  if  I  knew  this  minute  where  Dunworth  is !  " 

Bonetti  did  not  immediately  answer.  He  looked  down 
at  the  road,  and  then  at  the  young  man  in  the  dog  cart. 
"Ten  dollars?"  said  he. 

Prouter  glared  at  him.  "Bonnet,"  he  cried,  "do  you 
know  where  Dunworth  is?  Out  with  it,  man,  and  ten 
dollars  is  yours."  And  thrusting  his  hand  in  his  pocket  he 
pulled  out  a  wallet. 

Bonetti  folded  his  arms  and  cast  his  eyes  aga:n  upon 
the  ground.  Why  should  he  not  help  Prouter  to  find 
Dunworth?  The  one  would  be  relieved  of  an  onerous 
burden,  and  the  other  would  be  able  to  make  a  most  ad- 
vantageous bargain.  He  had  Dr.  Lester's  Atlanta  ad- 
dress, and  there  was  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  it  was  also 
Dunworth's.  He  had  promised  not  to  say  anything  about 
the  expedition  of  Miss  Ardis  and  her  friends,  but  he  had 
never  said  that  he  would  not  give  Dunworth's  address  if 
he  should  happen  to  have  it.  Dr.  Lester  had  asked  him 
to  communicate  with  him  if  it  should  be  necessary,  and  it 
seemed  very  necessary  indeed  that  Mr.  Dunworth  should 
be  communicated  with.  This  young  Englishman  was  ready 
to  sell  this  valuable  property  for  a  trifle,  and  it  would  be 
a  positive  wrong  to  Dunworth  not  to  let  him  know  of  the 
chance. 


314  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  Come,  come,  Bonnet!  "  cried  Prouter,  "  What  are  you 
thinking  of,  man?  Do  you  know,  or  don't  you  know?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bonetti  slowly,  "  I  do  know.  Just  about 
this  time  he  ought  to  be  at  Didman's  Hotel,  Atlanta, 
Georgia." 

"By  George!"  cried  Prouter,  "you  are  the  very  man 
I  should  have  come  to  first!  "  And  he  pulled  a  ten-dollar 
note  from  his  wallet  and  handed  it  to  Bonetti. 

The  latter  took  it,  rolled  it  up  carelessly  and  stuffed  it 
into  his  waistcoat  pocket.  When  money  was  thus  lavishly 
being  thrown  about  the  county  he  deemed  it  his  duty  to 
his  family  to  intercept  some  of  it  for  useful  purposes. 

"Atlanta,  Georgia!"  ejaculated  Prouter.  "How  do 
you  get  there?" 

"You  go  to  Bolton,  and  take  the  train,"  answered 
Bonetti.  "  There's  a  train  south  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  and  one  at  half-past  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon." 

Prouter  jerked  out  his  watch.  "  Five  minutes  to  four!  " 
he  said.  "  That  gives  twenty-five  minutes  to  get  to  the 
Quantrills,  fifteen  minutes  to  change  my  clothes  and  pack 
a  bag,  twenty  minutes  to  Bolton,  ten  to  speak  to  the  milk 
people,  and  a  good  quarter-hour  to  spare.  By  George ! 
Bonnet,  I'm  off  this  afternoon!  Didman's  Hotel  you 
said?" 

Bonetti  nodded,  and  in  a  moment  the  young  English- 
man was  bowling  away  as  fast  as  his  horse  could  shake 
himself  over  the  road. 

Bonetti  walked  slowly  homeward,  his  brow  a  little 
clouded.  "  I  should  not  have  done  that,"  he  said  to  him- 
self. "  It  was  a  stupid  mistake,  and  I  ought  to  have  known 
better.  If  I  had  said  to  Prouter,  '  If  you  want  to  find  Mr. 
Dunworth  I'll  take  you  to  him :'  he'd  have  agreed  as  quick 
as  lightnin'  to  pay  my  passage  to  Atlanta;  and  if  we 
hadn't  found  him  at  that  hotel  we'd  have  hunted  him  up; 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  315 

and  I'd  have  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  expenses.  It 
would  have  done  me  good  to  get  away  from  here  for 
awhile ;  and  I  could  have  split  up  a  lot  of  wood  for  the 
women  and  gone  with  him  just  as  well  as  not.  Confound 
it!  It  was  the  stupidest  kind  of  a  mistake!  " 

Some  hours  later  the  train  on  which  Tom  Prouter  had 
taken  passage  stopped  at  a  junction  of  several  railroads. 
The  stop  was  long,  ridiculously  long,  Mr.  Prouter  thought, 
and  he  laid  down  the  novel  which  he  was  reading  and 
went  out  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  He  found  that  a 
certain  train  with  which  they  were  to  make  connection 
had  not  arrived,  and  that  they  were  waiting  for  it. 
Further  inquiries  elicited  the  information  that  they  might 
have  to  wait  half  an  hour  longer. 

"  Confound  it!  "  said  he.  "  If  things  go  on  in  this  way, 
Dunworth  will  have  left  Atlanta  before  I  get  there." 

As  he  strode  impatiently  up  and  down  the  broad  plat- 
form of  the  station,  some  one  suddenly  stepped  in  front  of 
him,  and  said:  "Hello!" 

Prouter  stopped,  looked  up,  and  recognized  Mr.  Surrey. 

"Oh!"  said  he. 

"Are  you  going  north?"  asked  Surrey. 

"  No,"  said  Prouter. 

"Southward  bound,  then?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Prouter. 

"  I  am  on  my  way  up  from  Charleston,"  said  Jack 
Surrey,  paying  no  attention  to  the  fact  that  Prouter  showed 
very  plainly  that  he  took  no  interest  in  his  communica- 
tions. "  It  is  a  poor  time  to  go  north,  but  I  got  tired  of 
it  down  there.  And  what  is  the  news  from  Bolton  ?  Is 
Miss  Claverden  there?" 

"  No,"  said  Prouter. 

"And  our  good  Dr.  Lester?  He  is  on  hand,  I  sup- 
pose?" 


316  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  No,  he  is  not,"  said  Prouter ;  "  he  has  gone  away." 

"Ah!"  said  Mr.  Surrey.  "And  you  are  leaving,  too! 
The  neighborhood  must  be  quite  deserted.  Going  to 
Florida?" 

"  No,"  answered  Prouter  in  a  tone  intended  to  cut  off 
all  further  questioning.  "  I  am  going  to  Atlanta!  "  And 
he  moved  away. 

Being  thus  abruptly  left  by  the  young  Englishman,  Jack 
Surrey  walked  slowly  away  in  the  opposite  direction,  and 
resumed  the  smoking  of  a  cigar  which  he  had  held  in  his 
hand  during  his  brief  conversation  with  Prouter.  He  was 
in  no  hurry,  for  he  knew  that  even  after  he  heard  the 
coming  of  the  train  for  which  two  others  were  waiting, 
some  time  would  be  required  for  the  transfer  of  the  bag- 
gage and  mails.  So  he  leisurely  walked  up  and  down,  and 
considered  the  situation. 

He  had  gone  south  when  he  left  Bolton  and  had  wan- 
dered about  a  good  deal,  but  perpetual  bloom  in  semi- 
tropical  air  could  not  make  him  forget  that  he  had  not 
been  able  to  have  a  satisfactory  interview  with  Ardis 
Claverden  in  which  he  could  set  himself  right  before  her, 
and  know  for  a  certainty  if  he  had  any  chance  of  winning 
her.  He  gave  no  weight  to  her  anger  at  his  untimely 
proposal  nor  to  her  subsequent  avoidance  of  him.  Noth- 
ing but  a  plain,  straightforward  decision  would  satisfy  him, 
and  he  had  not  lost  faith  in  his  own  ability  to  influence 
that  decision.  He  had  heard  from  a  friend  in  New  York 
that  Miss  Claverden  was  staying  there  with  the  Chiverleys, 
and  had  afterward  heard  that  she  had  gone  south  with 
them.  Thinking  that  most  probably  this  meant  that  she 
had  returned  to  Bald  Hill  and  had  taken  her  friends  with 
her,  Surrey  determined  that  he  also  would  repair  to  that 
hospitable  mansion  and  endeavor  to  come  to  an  under- 
standing with  Ardis.  He  believed  that  her  father  was  his 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  317 

friend,  and  that  in  Jack  Surrey's  opinion  ivas  not  a  bad 
element  on  his  side. 

But  when  he  heard  from  Prouter  that  Ardis  was  not  at 
Bald  Hill  his  plans  were  upset,  and  he  now  set  himself  at 
work  to  endeavor  to  reshape  them.  As  going  south  in 
her  case  did  not  mean  a  return  to  her  home,  what  did  it 
mean?  He  was  almost  certain  that  she  and  the  Chiver- 
leys  were  not  in  Florida,  for  Jack  Surrey,  when  travelling, 
was  a  man  who  kept  himself  posted  in  regard  to  arrivals. 
Atlanta  was  suggested  by  the  fact  that  Prouter  was  going 
there.  That  region  would  be  attractive  to  artists,  even 
in  winter  time,  and  perhaps  they  were  on  their  way  to 
New  Orleans.  Prouter's  going  to  Atlanta  was  a  fairly 
good  clew,  for  he  knew  that  the  young  Englishman  had 
strong  inclinations  in  the  direction  of  Ardis,  and  he  thought 
it  probable  that  nothing  would  be  more  likely  to  take  him 
to  Atlanta  than  the  fact  that  that  young  lady  was  there. 

When  Surrey  had  fully  considered  the  subject,  it  seemed 
plain  to  him  that  not  only  would  it  be  folly  to  go  on  to 
Bald  Hill,  but  that  if  he  desired  to  travel  Ardis-ward  he 
might  as  well  go  to  Atlanta  as  anywhere  else.  For  a 
moment  he  thought  of  asking  Prouter  plainly  where  she 
was,  but  this  would  unveil  his  intentions,  and  he  believed 
the  young  man  capable  of  sending  him  on  a  wrong  track. 

Having  arrived  at  the  end  of  his  considerations  Mr. 
Surrey  stepped  to  the  ticket  office,  made  some  arrange- 
ments there,  and  a  few  minutes  afterward,  Tom  Prouter, 
who  was  again  in  his  seat  and  engaged  with  his  novel,  saw 
him  enter  the  car,  preceded  by  a  colored  porter  carrying  a 
bag.  The  man  came  directly  up  to  Prouter,  and  turn- 
ing to  Mr.  Surrey  said : 

"  You  can  have  the  upper  berth  of  this  section,  sir,  and 
that's  the  only  one  left.  I'll  make  up  the  beds  whenever 
you  are  ready,  gentlemen." 


318  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Prouter  laid  down  his  book  and  gazed  with  indignation 
at  Surrey.  "What's  the  matter?  "  he  said.  "This  train 
doesn't  go  North." 

"  I  know  that,"  said  Surrey,  preparing  to  occupy  the 
seat  opposite  Prouter,  "but  I  am  going  South.  In  this 
country  people  are  allowed  to  change  their  minds." 

Prouter  sat  up  very  straight,  and  looked  much  as  if  he 
would  like  to  change  his  mind  and  go  North.  "  To  what 
place  in  the  South?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"Atlanta,"  said  Surrey,  as  he  arranged  himself  and  his 
effects  on  the  seat. 

For  some  moments  Prouter  said  nothing,  but  gazed 
fiercely  at  the  other.  What  in  the  name  of  all  that  was 
villanous  did  this  mean?  Why  did  this  man  suddenly 
determine  to  go  to  Atlanta?  Could  he  suspect  that  Dim- 
worth  was  there?  How  could  he  suspect  it?  The  name 
had  not  been  mentioned.  At  least  Prouter  thought  not. 
He  racked  his  brains  to  try  to  remember  if  he  had  said 
anything  about  him.  And  what  could  Surrey  want  with 
Dunworth?  He  had  no  interest  in  milk  or  cows,  and 
therefore  could  not  be  expected  to  interfere  with  him. 
But  he  remembered  that  Surrey  and  Dunworth  were  rivals, 
and  although  he  considered  himself  well  up  in  his  knowl- 
edge of  America,  he  did  not  know  what  were  the  customs 
of  rivals  in  this  country,  but  he  vowed  to  himself  that  if 
there  was  to  be  a  quarrel  he  would  see  to  it  that  his  busi- 
ness was  settled  before  Dunworth's  mind  was  disturbed 
by  extraneous  matters.  But  above  all,  how  did  Mr.  Sur- 
rey know  that  Dunworth  was  in  Atlanta?  And  why  did 
he  so  suddenly  determine  to  go  there? 

These  were  questions  too  hard  for  Tom  Prouter  to  de- 
termine, and  he  betook  himself  again  to  his  book.  The 
train  had  now  started,  and  presently  Surrey  remarked : 

"I  suppose  the  porter  will  soon  be  coming  along  to 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  319 

arrange  these  beds.  I  shall  go  into  the  smoking-room. 
Do  you  smoke?  " 

"No,"  said  Prouter  without  raising  his  eyes  from  his 
book. 

Surrey  found  the  smoking-room  unoccupied,  and  he 
established  himself  comfortably  in  a  corner.  About  five 
minutes  afterward  Prouter  entered,  and,  seating  himself 
as  far  away  from  the  other  as  possible,  proceeded  to  fill 
and  light  a  short  brown  pipe. 

"I  thought  you  said  you  did  not  smoke,"  remarked 
Surrey. 

"  In  this  country,"  retorted  Prouter,  "people  are  allowed 
to  change  their  minds." 

Surrey  smiled.     "  You  positively  hate  me,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  answered  Prouter  shortly. 

"  Well,"  said  Surrey,  after  a  few  puffs,  "  I  don't  particu- 
larly object  on  my  own  account  to  your  state  of  feeling, 
but  I  should  think  it  would  be  decidedly  unpleasant  for 
you.  We  shall  have  to  travel  together  for  some  little 
time,  and  I  know  I  should  consider  it  a  confounded  bore 
to  be  obliged  to  screw  my  mind  up  to  the  hating  point, 
and  keep  it  there  until  we  reached  Atlanta.  In  order  to 
be  consistent  one  has  to  make  himself  so  extremely  dis- 
agreeable." 

"  I  don't  mind  that,"  said  Prouter. 

Surrey  laughed.  "What  was  the  original  row?"  he 
said.  "  I  ask  merely  from  curiosity.  I  have  noticed  that 
you  have  had  this  animosity  on  hand  for  some  time." 

Prouter  could  not  well  put  into  words  the  reason  for 
his  dislike  of  the  other.  In  fact,  he  hated  Surrey  because 
that  individual  had  always  exhibited  a  certain  minor  con- 
tempt for  him;  and  then,  again,  he  hated  him  because 
he  was  a  suitor  of  Miss  Claverden,  and  occupied  the  posi- 
tion, in  Prouter's  eyes,  of  an  impertinent  interloper.  The 


320  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

latter  reason  was  not  difficult  for  Surrey  to  divine,  for 
Prouter's  manner  had  frequently  indicated  it. 

"  Perhaps  I  can  help  you  out  a  little,"  he  said.  "  Is  it 
on  account  of  any  attentions  I  may  have  paid  to  Miss 
Claverden?" 

"  That  is  part  of  it,"  said  Prouter. 

"  Well,"  said  Surrey,  <c  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  know  just 
how  the  case  stands,  and  if  it  is  interesting  to  you  to  keep 
up  your  enmity  I  am  sure  I  have  no  objections.  I  will 
merely  say,  however,  that  your  attentions  to  Miss  Claver- 
den do  not  trouble  me  at  all.  You  see  what  a  charitable 
mind  I  have." 

"Humph!"  said  Prouter.  "A  charitable  mind  is 
beastly." 

The  next  morning  these  two  uncongenial  companions 
took  breakfast  together  at  a  wayside  station ;  Surrey  seat- 
ing himself  in  the  first  chair  as  he  entered  the  room,  and 
Prouter  taking  a  place  at  the  other  end  of  a  long  table. 

"How  is  the  enmity  this  morning?"  asked  Surrey  as 
they  came  out  together.  "  Hot  as  ever,  I  suppose  ?  I 
wish  I  had  had  a  little  of  it  to  put  into  my  coffee,  for  the 
stuff  was  decidedly  cool." 

"It's  beastly  tiresome,"  said  Prouter  sharply,  "that 
you  don't  get  angry.  If  you  were  half  a  man  you  would 
show  it." 

"  But  I  am  not  half  a  man,"  said  Surrey,  "  as  I  am  pre- 
pared to  show  whenever  occasion  requires." 

There  was  not  much  conversation  during  the  rest  of 
the  journey,  for  Prouter  invariably  went  into  the  smoking- 
room  when  Surrey  was  in  his  seat ;  and  if  the  latter  came 
into  the  little  compartment,  the  former  returned  to  his 
seat.  To  sit  opposite  and  close  to  a  man  to  whom  he 
was  obliged  on  principle  to  exhibit  ill-will  would  have 
been  a  difficult  task  to  the  young  Englishman,  whose 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  321 

genial  and  companionable  nature  was  not  adapted  to  that 
sort  of  thing. 

Surrey  thought  it  wise  not  to  say  anything  to  the  other 
about  the  object  of  his  journey.  Several  times  he  had  felt 
inclined  to  ask  some  questions,  but,  on  second  thoughts, 
decided  to  keep  quiet.  He  felt  quite  sure  from  Prouter's 
manner  toward  him  that  Ardis  was  in  Atlanta,  and  that 
the  young  man  was  going  to  see  her.  If  that  were  the 
case  he  would  also  see  her ;  and  if  she  were  not  there  it 
would  be  well  to  make  his  inquiries  of  some  one  other 
than  Prouter. 

They  reached  Atlanta  about  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, and  Tom  Prouter  immediately  began  to  lock  him- 
self up  as  if  he  had  been  an  iron  safe.  It  might  have  been 
supposed  that  he  had  been  sufficiently  shut  up  before,  but 
now  one  might  almost  imagine  the  click  of  the  patent 
locks  as  he  buttoned  up  his  coat,  firmly  closed  his  lips, 
and  with  bag  and  umbrella  in  hand,  and  eyes  staring 
straight  in  front  of  him,  strode  out  of  the  station.  He 
paid  no  attention  to  the  importunities  of  hack  drivers,  for 
Surrey  might  be  near  and  would  hear  the  address  he 
would  have  to  give  the  man.  He  had  never  been  in 
Atlanta,  and  had  no  idea  of  the  situation  of  Didman's 
Hotel.  His  only  present  object  was  to  get  away  from 
Surrey.  When  he  had  accomplished  this  he  would  inquire 
about  the  hotel.  He  walked  away  rapidly,  not  caring 
whether  he  turned  to  the  right  or  the  left;  but  in  less 
than  a  minute  Surrey  was  walking  by  his  side. 

"You  don't  intend  to  take  a  carriage?  "  said  the  latter. 

"  No,"  replied  Prouter,  turning  upon  him  fiercely. 

"  If  you  had  done  so,  I  was  thinking  of  joining  you," 
remarked  Surrey.  "  Have  you  far  to  walk?  " 

Prouter  stopped  short  and  glared  at  him.  "  It  is  none 
of  your  business,"  he  said,  "whether  I  go  far  or  near. 
21 


322  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

You  can  go  your  way,  and  I  shall  go  mine.  I  don't  want 
you  to  take  a  cab  with  me,  or  walk  with  me,  or  have 
anything  to  do  with  me." 

Surrey  smiled.  "  You  keep  up  the  enmity  admirably," 
he  said.  "  It  is  the  most  interesting  case  of  the  kind  I 
ever  met  with.  But  you  will  allow  me  to  say  that  I  came 
to  Atlanta  because  you  were  on  your  way  here.  Atlanta 
is  open  to  the  public,  and  I  have  a  right  to  come  to  it. 
If  you  are  now  going  to  any  place  of  public  entertainment, 
I  have  as  much  right  as  you  have  to  go  there  and  I  shall 
exercise  that  right.  Of  course  if  you  go  to  a  private  house, 
that  is  another  matter.  But  if  you  do  not  wish  me  to 
walk  with  you  I  shall  take  to  the  other  side  of  the  street. 
If  you  choose  to  project  your  enmity  over  there  through 
the  trucks  and  wagons  I  do  not  object." 

Prouter  gave  vent  to  an  angry  ejaculation  and  passed 
on  with  quick,  strong  strides,  turning  aside  for  no  one. 
He  was  furious.  How  could  he  rid  himself  of  this  fel- 
low? He  felt  inclined  to  take  advantage  of  the  loop-hole 
of  escape  which  had  been  offered  him  by  his  enemy,  and 
actually  contemplated  going  up  to  the  first  private  house 
he  came  to  and  asking  permission  to  remain  there  for  ten 
minutes.  Americans  had  so  many  unconventional  customs 
that  this  might  not  be  considered  an  odd  request ;  but 
he  was  in  a  business  street  and  passed  no  private  houses. 
As  he  became  warm  by  exercise  he  walked  more  and 
more  rapidly;  thus  hoping  to  distance  his  persistent  fol- 
lower, and  by  turning  some  corner  to  elude  him. 

But  Surrey,  who  was  unencumbered  with  anything  save 
a  light  bag  which  hung  by  a  strap  from  his  shoulder,  easily 
kept  up  with  him.  Prouter,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  to  the  left,  strode  past  a  large  building  without  re- 
garding it;  but  Surrey,  his  gaze  constantly  thrown  across 
the  street,  in  order  that  he  might  not  lose  sight  of  the 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  323 

other,  saw  standing  upon  the  portico  of  this  building  a 
man  whom  he  recognized.  He  immediately  ran  across 
the  street,  caught  up  to  Prouter,  slapped  him  on  the 
shoulder,  and  exclaimed:  "Hold  up!  Didn't  you  see 
Dr.  Lester  as  you  passed  that  hotel?  " 

Prouter  stopped.     "Dr.  Lester!"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Yes,"  said  Surrey.  "  If  you  don't  want  to  see  him 
you  can  go  on.  I  shall  go  back  to  him." 

Prouter  did  not  hesitate.  "Dr.  Lester!  "  he  exclaimed 
again.  "What  is  the  meaning  of  that?"  And  he  im- 
mediately walked  back  with  Surrey  to  the  hotel. 

When  Dr.  Lester,  standing  near  the  door  of  Did- 
man's  Hotel,  saw  these  two  men  coming  up  the  steps 
toward  him,  his  heart  sank.  He  was  not  in  a  very  happy 
mood  anyway,  although  he  had  been  assuring  himself  over 
and  over  that  he  ought  now  to  be  one  of  the  most  cheer- 
ful fellows  alive,  and  when  his  eyes  suddenly  fell  upon 
Prouter  and  Surrey,  full  of  life,  vigor,  and  animation,  he 
was  almost  as  much  shocked  as  when  he  came  upon  the 
two  immovable  men  hanging  from  the  limb  of  the  great 
oak  tree. 

To  Prouter  by  himself  he  would  have  had  no  particular 
objection,  but  in  the  doctor's  eyes  he  seemed  to  be  bring- 
ing with  him  the  most  direful  of  evils.  Surrey  was  the 
cause  of  the  misery  that  had  been  just  passed  through. 
He  could  reappear  only  as  the  cause  of  further  misery. 
What  this  further  misery  could  be,  or  how  it  could  be 
caused,  the  doctor  did  not  consider.  Surrey  had  come ; 
that  was  enough! 

Tom  Prouter  rushed  up  to  Dr.  Lester  and  imme- 
diately seized  him  by  the  hand.  "By  George!  sir!  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you  here.  And  is 
Mr.  Dun  worth  with  you?  Where  is  he?  Can  I  see  him?  " 

The  doctor  did  not  immediately  answer.     He  had  been 


324  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

so  reticent  in  regard  to  Dun  worth  that  this  habit  of  pru- 
dence had  not  yet  left  him.  But  a  moment's  reflection 
showed  him  that  there  was  no  reason  whatever  why  all 
the  world  should  not  know  that  Dunworth  was  here ;  and 
he  informed  Prouter  that  that  gentleman  was  stopping  at 
this  hotel,  but  that  at  present  he  was  not  in  the  house. 
He  believed,  however,  that  he  would  shortly  return. 

On  receiving  this  intelligence  Tom  Prouter  immediately 
left  the  doctor,  and  established  himself  in  an  arm-chair  on 
the  piazza  in  a  position  where  he  could  see  every  one  who 
came  up  the  steps,  and  could  also  have  a  good  view  up 
and  down  the  street.  At  all  hazards  his  business  with 
Dunworth  must  be  arranged  before  Surrey  had  had  an 
opportunity  to  distract  his  mind. 

Surrey's  meeting  with  the  doctor  was  neither  hasty  nor 
enthusiastic,  but  it  was  marked  with  easy  civility  on  the 
one  side  and  a  severe  frigidity  on  the  other.  Surrey  ap- 
parently took  no  notice  of  the  doctor's  forbidding  manner, 
and  after  a  few  casual  remarks  inquired  if  Miss  Claverden 
were  with  the  party  at  the  hotel.  Under  other  circum- 
stances this  question  would  have  surprised  the  doctor; 
but  the  moment  he  saw  Surrey  he  was  sure  that  he  had 
come  after  Ardis,  and  the  first  shock  had  been  followed 
by  a  sickness  of  heart  which  Surrey's  words  had  no  power 
to  increase.  He  made  no  conjectures  in  regard  to  the 
manner  in  which  this  man  had  discovered  that  Ardis  was 
in  Atlanta.  She  or  any  one  of  the  party  might  have  written 
the  information  to  friends,  but  it  was  a  matter  of  no  im- 
portance. Surrey  was  here ;  that  was  the  only  thing  to  be 
thought  of. 

But  while  he  was  thinking,  Surrey  was  waiting  for  an 
answer.  It  was  contrary  to  Dr.  Lester's  nature  to  tell  a 
lie ;  and,  besides,  in  this  case  a  lie  would  be  foolish  and 
useless.  So  he  answered  "  Yes." 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  325 

Surrey  asked  a  few  questions  about  the  Chiverleys, 
whom  he  had  heard  were  Ardis'  travelling  companions 
and  whom  he  had  met  in  New  York.  And  when  with  an 
apathetic  brevity  these  had  been  answered,  he  went  into 
the  hotel.  He  asked  nothing  about  Mr.  Dunworth,  for 
he  had  no  reason  to  suppose  he  was  there,  Prouter's  ques- 
tions having  been  asked  in  a  low  tone,  when  he  was  at 
the  top  of  the  steps  and  Surrey  at  the  bottom. 

Having  registered  his  name  and  ordered  that  his  heavier 
baggage  be  brought  from  the  station,  Surrey  proceeded 
to  the  room  allotted  to  him,  and  put  himself  into  a  condi- 
tion to  make  an  afternoon  call  upon  a  lady.  When  this 
had  been  accomplished  to  his  satisfaction  he  went  down- 
stairs, and  sent  up  his  card  to  Miss  Claverden.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  waiter  returned  with  the  information  that  the 
lady  would  receive  him. 

Ardis  had  been  fully  prepared  for  the  reception  of 
Surrey's  card,  for  Dr.  Lester  had  lost  no  time  in  informing 
her  of  the  man's  arrival.  She  much  amazed  her  old  friend 
by  exhibiting  no  displeasure  at  this  intelligence,  and  by 
actually  saying  that  she  should  be  glad  to  see  Mr.  Surrey. 

"After  all  that  has  happened !  "  exclaimed  the  doctor. 

Ardis  smiled.  "  It  is  because  of  what  has  happened 
that  I  wish  to  see  Mr.  Surrey.  It  is  odd  that  he  should 
be  here  just  at  this  time,  but  it  happens  very  well,  for  the 
sooner  I  see  him  the  better." 


326  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII. 

WHEN  Ardis  entered  the  parlor  where  Surrey  awaited 
her,  there  was  upon  her  a  radiance  of  beauty  in 
which  no  man  had  ever  seen  her  before.  It  is  true  that 
she  had  just  parted  from  Dr.  Lester,  but  he  had  not  seen 
her  truly.  A  cloud  had  risen  before  him  which  dimmed 
'  all  things. 

Nor  had  Roger  looked  upon  her  thus.  The  party  had 
reached  the  hotel  that  morning ;  and  early  in  the  after- 
noon, when  the  Chiverleys  had  departed  for  the  suburbs 
of  the  city  to  sketch,  and  Dunworth  was  away  attending 
to  some  business  prominent  in  which  was  the  transporta- 
tion of  his  horse  to  Bolton,  Ardis  had  made  a  total  change 
in  her  outward  appearance.  Discarding  the  somewhat 
hoydenish  travelling  costume  in  which  she  had  journeyed 
into  the  back  country,  she  had  selected  from  the  trunks 
which  had  been  left  at  Atlanta  the  clothes  in  which  she 
thought  Roger  would  like  her  best.  Every  fold  of  her 
light  dress,  every  piece  of  falling  lace,  every  curl 
and  wave  of  her  dark  hair,  had  been  arranged  to  please 
Roger.  She  not  only  knew  his  tastes,  but  she  knew  how 
to  gratify  them,  and  the  joy  it  gave  her  to  gratify  them 
bestowed  an  added  deftness  upon  her  fingers  and  an 
added  acuteness  to  her  perceptions  of  the  charms  of  a 
toilette. 

And  she  was  also  charming  because  she  knew  that 
Roger  would  think  her  charming,  and  the  light  which  this 
knowledge  had  thrown  into  her  dark  eyes  was  still  there. 

The  effect  upon  Surrey  when  Ardis  entered  the  room 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  327 

was  rather  an  odd  one.  The  moment  his  eyes  fell  upon 
her  the  thought  flashed  into  his  mind  that  there  had  been 
a  mistake,  that  it  was  some  one  else  and  not  himself 
whom  she  expected  to  see.  Ardis  Claverden  had  never 
come  like  this  to  welcome  him. 

But  when  with  smiling  eyes  and  lips  she  stepped  quickly 
toward  him,  he  saw  that  there  was  no  mistake. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Mr.  Surrey,"  she  said. 
And  the  two  seated  themselves  near  a  window  of  the  va- 
cant parlor. 

Surrey's  words  of  greeting  were  few  and  commonplace. 
It  was  seldom  that  he  felt  himself  thrown  from  his  bal- 
ance, but  he  had  that  feeling  now.  It  did  not  suit  him  at 
all  to  have  Ardis  say  that  she  was  glad  to  see  him.  He 
had  not  expected  it ;  he  was  not  prepared  for  it ;  and  he 
did  not  understand  it.  Looking  upon  the  case  from  his 
point  of  view,  Ardis  ought  not  to  be  glad  to  see  him ;  or, 
if  she  were,  she  ought  not  to  show  it.  In  their  last  inter- 
view he  had  offended  her,  and  she  had  been  very  angry  ; 
and,  since  that,  she  had  avoided  him  in  a  determined 
manner.  He  had  come  prepared  to  explain,  to  expostu- 
late, to  plead.  He  believed  himself  capable  of  making 
her  see  him  in  the  light  in  which  he  wished  to  be  seen ; 
and  when  once  recognized  in  that  light,  he  had  strong 
faith  in  his  power  of  making  her  feel  that  he  truly  loved 
her.  When  he  had  made  her  feel  this  Jack  Surrey  be- 
lieved that  there  would  be  no  good  reasons  for  despair. 

But  that  she  should  be  glad  to  see  him  disconcerted 
him.  There  must  have  been  some  radical  change  in  the 
condition  of  things;  and  how  to  adapt  himself  to  such  a 
change  'he  could  not  imagine.  Ardis  did  not  give  him 
much  time  for  cogitation. 

"  I  did  not  expect  to  meet  in  Atlanta  one  I  knew,"  she 
said,  "but  I  am  pleased  that  it  has  happened  so,  for  it 


328  ARDIS   CLAVERDEX. 

gives  me  an  opportunity  of  making  a  beginning  in  my  an- 
nouncements of  my  engagement  to  Mr.  Roger  Dunworth." 

"Roger  Dunworth?"  said  Mr.  Surrey. 

"  Yes,"  Ardis  answered. 

Jack  Surrey  was  a  man  who  was  in  the  habit  of  making 
strong  fights.  He  had  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
Ardis  had  ever  loved  him,  or  that  she  would  hold  herself 
from  love  of  other  men  until  he  could  persuade  her  to 
love  him.  Without  regard  to  these,  or  any  other  condi- 
tions, he  had  come  to  win  her,  if  valiant  fight  could  do  it. 
And  even  now  when  he  heard  she  had  been  won  by  an- 
other he  could  not  promptly  retire  from  the  field.  He 
was  not  one  who  could  give  up  the  game  when  checkmate 
was  called.  He  must  search  carefully  to  see  if,  by  any 
possibility,  he  might  make  another  move.  It  had  hap- 
pened to  him  in  times  gone  by  that  he  had  made  another 
move  and  had  himself  called  checkmate. 

Not  downcast,  but  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  floor, 
Surrey  sat  silent  a  few  moments.  Ardis,  on  her  part,  re- 
mained silent  also,  and  leaning  back  in  her  easy-chair  she 
looked  at  him.  This  man  had  been  the  cause  to  Roger 
and  her  of  so  much  misery,  and  to  some  of  her  friends  of 
so  much  trouble  and  anxiety,  that  she  might  have  been 
excused  had  she  looked  with  satisfaction,  and  perhaps 
with  something  of  triumph,  upon  his  present  discomfiture: 
But  she  was  too  happy  now  to  think  of  what  had  passed. 
No  thoughts  of  doubts,  of  fears,  of  hardships  and  dangers 
came  to  her  now;  they  were  dimmed  and  lost  in  the 
brilliancy  of  the  great  joy  of  knowing  that  Roger  be- 
longed to  her,  and  she  to  Roger. 

But  although  she  bore  no  resentment  toward  this  man 
who  had  given  her  all  the  real  sorrow  she  had  ever  known, 
she  did  not  pity  him.  In  fact,  the  only  feelings  she  had 
in  his  direction  were  those  of  gratification  that  his  most 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  329 

unfortunate  and  unhappy  influence  upon  her  life  was  at 
an  end,  and  that  so  soon  an  opportunity  had  come  to  her 
to  show  to  him  promptly  and  clearly  the  position  which, 
hereafter,  he  must  occupy  toward  her. 

All  this  was  very  pleasant  to  Ardis.  It  was  as  if  some 
good  angel  had  sent  Surrey  here  in  order  that  the  stamp 
and  seal  might  be  put  upon  the  grand  transaction  of  her 
life. 

Suddenly  Surrey  looked  up.  "  It  is  fixed  and  settled, 
then,"  he  said,  "that  you  are  to  marry  Mr.  Dunworth?" 

"  Fixed  and  settled,"  replied  Ardis.  And  as  she  spoke 
there  now  first  came  to  her  a  feeling  of  triumphant 
pleasure  in  the  utter  defeat  of  this  reckless  and  obstinate 
pursuer.  This  feeling  was  not  a  very  strong  one,  nor 
did  it  take  entire  possession  of  her.  But  it  may  have 
shown  itself  in  the  quick,  bright  flush  upon  her  face,  for 
as  Surrey  looked  at  her  a  shadow  seemed  to  come  upon 
him,  and  he  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  floor. 

Presently  he  looked  at  her  again  and  said :  "  You  may 
think  I  am  slow  in  offering  my  congratulations." 

Ardis  smiled.  "  I  had  not  thought  of  it,"  she  said,  "  but 
you  do  seem  a  little  tardy  about  it." 

"  Miss  Claverden,"  said  Surrey,  "  I  never  spoke  a  word 
to  you  that  did  not  come  in  all  truth  and  honesty  from 
my  heart,  and  I  shall  not  now  begin  to  speak  in  a  different 
way.  I  offer  you  no  congratulations  because  I  have  none 
to  offer.  This  may  be  blunt,  but  it  is  honest/' 

"  It  is  blunt,"  said  Ardis,  "  uncommonly  so.  And  do 
you  not  wish  me  happiness?" 

"  I  wish  you  every  happiness  that  humanity  is  capable 
of,"  said  Surrey,  "  but  that  is  not  congratulating  you." 

"  Perhaps  you  think,"  said  Ardis,  "  that  if  I  had  made 
a  different  choice  I  might  have  been  a  better  subject  for 
congratulation." 


330  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

11  Since  you  ask  me,11  said  Surrey,  "  I  will  answer  that  I 
do  think  so,  most  decidedly." 

This  remark,  given  in  a  tone  which  plainly  indicated 
that  he  would  have  been  willing,  had  he  been  allowed,  to 
point  out  the  better  choice,  produced  such  an  effect  upon 
the  lively  spirits  of  Ardis  that  she  could  not  forbear  a 
little  laugh.  "  You  are  charmingly  frank,"  she  said. 

"  Miss  Claverden,"  said  Surrey,  turning  quickly  toward 
her,  "will  you  tell  me  one  thing?  Do  I  owe  to  any  rash 
and  blundering  act  of  my  own  the  bad  fortune  which  has 
fallen  upon  me?  " 

"  I  will  speak  as  plainly  as  you  do,"  said  Ardis,  "  and 
will  say  that  the  matter  was  decided  independently  of 
anything  you  could  possibly  say  or  do." 

"That  may  seem  crushing,"  said  Surrey,  "but  in  fact  it 
gives  me  a  certain  satisfaction.  I  am  glad  to  know  that 
I  do  not  owe  my  misfortune  to  my  own  folly." 

Ardis  laughed  again.  "Are  you  as  easily  satisfied  as 
that?"  she  said. 

As  she  spoke,  her  enjoyment  of  the  ludicrous  element 
of  the  scene  lighting  up  her  face,  she  turned  her  eyes  and 
saw  Roger  Dunworth  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

When  Ardis  looked  upon  her  lover,  although  he  stood 
but  for  a  moment,  and  said  not  a  word,  a  horrible  sicken- 
ing chill  ran  through  her  and  she  rose  to  her  feet.  Her 
face  turned  pale,  and  she  opened  her  mouth  to  speak. 
But  before  she  could  utter  a  word  Dunworth  was  gone. 

Surrey  rose  also.  To  a  degree  he  comprehended  the 
situation,  although  he  saw  no  reason  for  such  a  strong 
exhibition  of  emotion.  But  he  knew  his  part  was  played 
and  his  exit  was  in  order. 

"  I  will  take  leave  of  you,  Miss  Claverden,"  he  said, 
extending  his  hand.  He  was  about  to  add  some  further 
words,  but  Ardis  simply  looked  at  him  without  touching 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  331 

the  hand  he  offered.  She  could  not  believe  that  this  man 
had  again  come  between  her  and  Roger;  she  could  not 
believe  that  Roger  could  be  so  hot-headed  and  unreason- 
ing ;  but  all  her  old  aversion  to  Surrey  suddenly  arose  in 
redoubled  force,  and  she  shrank  from  him.  She  would  as 
soon  have  touched  the  paw  of  a  hyena.  Surrey  bowed, 
without  a  word,  and  left  the  room. 

When  Roger  Dunworth  returned  from  his  business  in 
the  city — business  very  much  hastened  by  his  desire  to 
get  back  to  the  hotel  which  held  Ardis — he  was  stopped 
at  the  front  door  by  the  beaming  Tom  Prouter.  Roger 
was,  of  course,  greatly  amazed  to  see  the  young  man,  but 
was  also  very  much  pleased.  In  his  present  frame  of 
mind  it  delighted  him  to  meet  a  friend  and  neighbor ;  and 
in  a  moment  he  was  plunged  into  a  conversation  about 
cows,  milk  pans,  and  wagons. 

The  young  Englishman  gave  his  mind  solely  to  the 
business  on  hand.  He  made  no  allusion  to  the  fact  that 
Surrey  had  come  with  him,  for  he  felt  sure  that  this  in- 
formation would  distract  Dun  worth's  attention ;  and,  once 
distracted,  he  might  not  be  able  to  get  hold  of  it  again. 
Dunworth  did  not  want  a  milk  route,  but  he  was  in  such 
a  pleasant  and  accommodating  mood  that  he  allowed 
himself  to  be  impressed  by  Prouter's  arguments ;  and 
when  he  arose  he  promised  Prouter  that  as  soon  as  possi- 
ble after  he  reached  home  he  would  go  and. look  at  his 
stock,  and  would  then  come  to  a  final  decision  in  the 
matter.  Prouter  was  so  well  satisfied  with  this  result  that 
he  considered  he  had  made  a  virtual  sale  of  the  greater 
part  at  least  of  his  fortune-sapping  property;  and  he 
went  to  the  office  to  engage  a  room  for  the  night. 

Dunworth  hurried  up  into  the  parlor  where  he  hoped  to 
find  Ardis.  He  had  advanced  well  into  the  room,  when 
his  progress  was  suddenly  stopped  by  the  sight  of  the  lady 


332  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

for  whom  he  was  looking  seated  near  Surrey  by  one  of 
the  windows.  The  unexpected  sight  of  Surrey  was 
enough  to  astonish  Dunworth,  but  to  see  Ardis  seated  by 
him  engaged  in  what  appeared  to  be  a  very  intimate  and 
interesting  conversation  astounded  and  shocked  him. 
But  that  which  affected  him  more  than  anything  else  was 
the  appearance  of  Ardis.  He  had  left  her  a  girlish  figure 
in  a  short  blue  suit  very  much  the  worse  for  wear,  and 
her  charming  face  shaded  by  a  soft  felt  hat.  He  now 
saw  her,  beautiful  in  his  eyes  beyond  all  expression.  He 
saw  her  arrayed  in  flowing  folds  of  soft  white  cashmere, 
lace  and  silk;  a  narrow  velvet  ribbon  round  her  neck 
from  which  hung  a  sparkling  jewel ;  bands  of  gold  about 
her  round,  white  wrists ;  and  the  beauty  of  every  feature 
intensified  by  the  light  that  came  from  her  happy  heart. 

And  all  this  for  Surrey  ! 

Dunworth  was  not  a  man  who  could  readily  express  his 
emotions  in  words.  In  fact,  deep  emotion  for  the  moment 
silenced  him.  What  he  had  seen  had  been  seen  at  a 
glance.  The  effect  was  equally  instantaneous.  Every- 
thing had  suddenly  and  absolutely  changed.  He  ought  not 
to  be  here.  As  quickly  as  he  had  entered  he  turned  and 
went  out. 

The  instant  that  Ardis  was  left  alone  she  rose  and  rang 
the  bell.  When  a  waiter  appeared  she  sent  him  to  find 
Mr.  Dunworth  and  to  ask  him  to  come  to  her.  Then  she 
sat  down  to  wait,  and  very  shortly  it  came  upon  her  that 
she  had  done  a  foolish  thing.  Why  should  she  so  dis- 
compose herself  ?  Why  should  she  send  for  Roger  ?  He 
had  come  in,  he  had  gone  out,  and  would  come  back 
when  he  was  ready  to  do  so.  Perhaps  he  did  not  wish  to 
speak  to  Mr.  Surrey.  That  would  be  natural  enough. 
But  all  her  reasoning  could  not  take  the  chill  from  her 
heart.  It  grew  colder  and  colder. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  333 

The  man  returned  and  reported  that  Mr.  Dunworth 
had  gone  out.  Then  Ardis  sent  for  Dr.  Lester;  and 
when  he  came  she  told  him,  briefly  but  clearly,  what  had 
happened. 

But  the  doctor  was  not  in  a  condition  to  give  her  com- 
fort. The  heart-chill  had  come  upon  him  an  hour  or 
more  before  it  had  struck  her.  His  quick  sensibilities  had 
told  him  that  a  blight  was  about  to  fall  upon  the  woman 
he  loved ;  and  now  that  it  had  fallen,  the  manner  of  its 
fall  was  of  little  import.  But  if  he  allowed  this  almost 
superstitious  despair  to  take  hold  of  him,  he  would  not 
show  it  to  Ardis. 

"  I  will  go  and  find  Roger, "  he  said.  "  I  will  explain 
everything  to  him  and  will  bring  him  to  you." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  explain,"  said  Ardis,  with  a  little 
flush. 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  the  doctor.  "  But  you  want  to 
see  him ;  that  is  enough.  I  will  go  and  tell  him  so." 


334  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

ROGER  DUNWORTH  was  not  naturally  a  jealous 
man,  nor  was  he  one  who  often  allowed  his  anger 
to  get  the  better  of  him ;  but  of  all  men  he  had  ever  met 
with,  Surrey  possessed  the  greatest  power  of  exciting  in 
him  jealousy  or  anger.  The  cool  assumption  of  the  elder 
man  could  not  fail  to  arouse  the  hot  resentment  of  the 
other. 

But  as  Dunworth  walked  quickly  out  of  the  parlor  and 
down  the  stairs,  and  through  the  wide  public  hall  into  the 
street,  he  was  neither  jealous  nor  angry.  His  emotions 
had  not  crystallized  themselves  into  any  definite  form. 
As  has  been  said  before,  he  had  received  a  shock,  and,  in 
a  manner,  he  had  been  stunned. 

There  was  nothing  in  the  world  at  this  time  of  any 
importance  to  Roger  Dunworth  compared  to  the  facts 
that  he  and  Ardis  loved  each  other;  that  they  were  to 
marry  and  live  together  all  their  lives.  All  that  he  in- 
tended to  do,  and  all  that  he  hoped  to  accomplish,  was  to 
be  done  for  her  and  to  be  done  with  her.  He  had  never 
loved  any  one  but  Ardis,  and  it  seemed  to  him  that  he 
had  loved  her  all  his  life.  Now  she  belonged  to  him  and 
he  to  her,  and  this  was  the  great  truth  of  his  existence. 

Upon  a  mind  in  this  sensitive  and  exalted  state  the 
vision  of  his  betrothed,  more  beautiful  than  she  had  ever 
appeared  before  him,  closeted,  as  it  were,  with  an  ab- 
horred rival,  struck  upon  him  with  a  powerful  and  peculiar 
force. 

As  he  walked  rapidly  up  the  street  his  most  powerful 


ARDIS  CLAVERDP:N.  335 

motive  was  to  get  away  from  Surrey.  This  was  the  first 
thing  to  do.  Then  all  manner  of  conjectures  rushed 
wildly  upon  him.  Why  did  the  man  come  here  ?  How 
did  he  know  Ardis  was  here  ?  Had  she  expected  him  ? 
And  why  had  she  not  spoken  of  it  ?  And  what  did  she 
mean  by  asking  Surrey  if  he  could  be  satisfied  with  so 
little  ? — the  only  words  Roger  Dunworth  had  heard. 

As  he  walked  and  thought  and  his  mind  became  some- 
what clearer,  he  firmly  determined  he  would  do  one  thing. 
No  matter  how  this  meeting  and  conversation  had  come 
about,  he  would  not  be  jealous  of  Ardis,  he  would  not 
doubt  her.  He  was  sure  that  she  would  tell  him  every- 
thing. Having  told  him  that  she  loved  him,  he  did  not 
in  the  least  expect  that  she  would  now  tell  him  that  she 
loved  another.  Whatever  explanation  she  might  give 
him,  he  would  dispassionately  hear,  and  although  he  might 
not  like  what  he  heard,  he  knew  that  Ardis  was  reason- 
able as  well  as  true,  and  he  did  not  doubt  she  would  give 
him  a  fair  hearing,  and  act  justly.  Above  all  things  he 
would  not  doubt  her. 

But  he  could  not  talk  to  her  nor  hear  her  talk  while 
Surrey  was  there.  He  must  give  that  man  time  to  get 
away.  And  so  he  walked  and  walked,  and  tried  to  think 
over  the  whole  matter;  and  the  worst  thing  a  man  like 
Roger  Dunworth  could  do  was  to  walk  and  walk  and  try 
to  think  over  the  whole  matter.  He  thought  so  much 
and  walked  so  long  that  at  last  he  was  surprised  to  find 
that  it  was  growing  dark. 

As  he  retraced  his  steps  toward  the  hotel  he  began  to 
feel  uneasy  in  regard  to  his  own  conduct.  Surrey  must 
have  left  Ardis  a  long  time  before;  and  although  she 
might  excuse  Roger's  abrupt  withdrawal  from  the  room, 
she  must  wonder  at  his  protracted  absence.  He  did  not 
wish  her  to  imagine  for  an  instant  that  he  believed  her  to 


336  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

be  less  loyal  than  himself,  and  his  heart  smote  him  as  he 
thought  that  he  had  given  her  reason  for  such  supposition. 

Dr.  Lester  had  gone  out  in  search  of  Roger,  but  the 
young  man  had  turned  up  a  by-street  which  led  into  the 
country,  and  the  doctor  could  not  go  into  all  the  by-streets 
which  led  into  the  country.  The  Chiverleys  had  re- 
turned from  their  sketching  expedition,  and  wondered 
why  Roger  was  not  there  and  why  Ardis  was  not  ready 
for  her  dinner. 

Ardis  had  waited  in  the  parlor  for  a  long  time,  but 
neither  Roger  nor  the  doctor  returned,  and  at  last  she 
began  to  feel  that  she  had  not  only  been  chilled  but  that 
she  had  been  wounded.  Was  Roger  a  man  who  always 
took  offense  and  showed  resentment  without  giving  the 
slightest  oportunity  for  explanation  ?  His  action  plainly 
showed  that  he  considered  there  was  cause  for  disap- 
proval of  her;  and  even  if  she  could  admit  that  she  had 
given  him  apparent  reason  for  such  supposition,  he  had 
no  right  to  act  upon  it  alone.  After  all  that  had  hap- 
pened, he  should  have  been  the  last  man  to  make  up  his 
mind  in  a  case  like  this  without  hearing  what  she  had  to 
say  about  it. 

After  thinking  a  long,  long  time  she  went  up  into  her 
room.  She  did  not  wish  to  see  any  one  until  she  saw 
Roger.  Of  course  her  friends  could  easily  imagine  the 
nature  of  what  had  occurred,  especially  as  a  similar  thing 
had  occurred  before.  Surrey  had  come  there;  Roger  had 
gone  away;  it  was  plain  enough  what  they  would  think. 
She  was  ashamed,  and  growing  angry.  No  matter  what 
had  happened,  Roger  should  not  have  treated  her  thus. 

On  his  way  back  Roger  became  more  and  more  con- 
vinced that  he  had  made  a  grave  mistake  by  precipitately 
leaving  the  hotel  and  staying  away  so  long,  and  yet  he 
could  not  compose  his  mind  into  the  proper  condition  to 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  337 

speak  to  Ardis  as  he  wished  to  speak  to  her.  Visions  of 
Surrey  continually  arose  before  him,  and  dispelled  the 
earnest  gentleness  with  which  he  intended  to  clothe  his 
thoughts.  The  evening  was  well  advanced  when  he  went 
into  a  restaurant  and  ordered  a  meal.  He  believed  that 
rested  and  refreshed  he  would  be  better  able  to  do  what 
was  before  him. 

When  at  last  he  reached  the  hotel  he  had  decided  to 
go  immediately  to  the  parlor;  and  if  Ardis  were  not  there, 
to  send  for  her  and  request  an  interview.  As  he  passed 
through  the  lower  hall  he  saw  no  one  he  knew  except 
Prouter,  in  an  adjoining  room  with  his  back  toward  him 
sitting  at  a  table  against  the  wall,  busily  writing.  It  now 
struck  Roger  that  he  would  like  to  see  Dr.  Lester.  It 
might  be  well  to  have  a  word  with  this  good  friend  before 
proceeding  further. 

He  turned  aside  and  went  into  the  reading-room.  There 
was  only  one  man  there,  and  that  man  was  Mr.  Surrey. 
As  Roger  entered  the  other  looked  up  from  his  paper. 

These  two  men  had  frequently  met  but  had  had  very 
little  to  say  to  each  other.  Apart  from  the  fact  that  he 
was  bound  upon  general  principles  to  object  to  the  exist- 
ence of  a  man  who  was  his  rival,  Surrey  had  not  cared 
about  Dunworth  to  an  extent  sufficient  to  make  him  dis- 
like him. 

This  evening  the  mind  of  Mr.  Surrey  was  in  as  gloomy 
and  melancholy  a  condition  as  its  owner  had  ever  per- 
mitted it  to  enter.  His  love  for  Ardis  had  truly  been  the 
most  ardent  and  earnest  of  his  life,  and  his  reliance  upon 
himself  had  been  so  great  that  his  belief  in  his  ultimate 
success  had  never  wavered.  But  now  he  knew  for  a 
certainty  that  Ardis  belonged  to  another,  and  that  he 
must  with  the  best  grace  possible  admit  his  absolute  and 
definite  defeat.  This  was  a  duty  which  hitherto  he  had 
22 


338  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN. 

so  seldom  been  called  upon  to  perform  that  he  found  he 
was  rather  rusty  at  it.  He  would  allow  himself,  however, 
no  trifling  with  himself.  The  affair  was  settled,  and  thus 
was  nothing  left  for  him  to  do  but  to  settle  himself  as  well 
and  as  soon  as  he  might.  In  pursuance  of  this  resolution 
he  had  determined  to  let  every  one  see  that  he  had  ac- 
cepted the  fortunes  of  war.  He  would  show  no  ill-will 
toward  any  one  concerned  in  the  matter,  no  bad  feeling 
whatever,  and  if  by  frank  exhibition  of  a  generous  nature, 
he  should  provoke  the  slightest  feeling  of  regretfulness  in 
the  mind  of  Miss  Claverden,  he  would  accept  the  evidence 
of  such  feeling  as  a  palliation  for  his  misfortune. 

Toward  Dunworth  he  intended  to  show  a  marked 
magnanimity.  It  was  not  the  young  countryman's  fault  if 
Ardis  preferred  him  to  an  accomplished  man  of  the  world 
who  knew  what  a  thoroughbred  woman  needed  to  make 
her  happy;  and  his  success  was  no  just  cause  for  enmity. 
In  fact,  Surrey  considered  it  pure  nonsense  to  be  angry 
with  any  one.  He  liked  to  be  on  good  terms  with  people 
or  on  no  terms  at  all. 

These  conclusions  were  logical  and  sensible,  but  Mr. 
Surrey  had  not  adopted  them  without  first  throwing  his 
mind  into  a  very  perturbed  and  unhealthy  condition.  He 
had  called  the  matter  settled,  however,  and  had  taken  up 
the  paper  hoping  to  divert  his  mind  into  a  more  restful 
condition.  But  when  he  looked  up  and  perceived  Dun- 
worth  standing  within  a  few  yards  of  him  and  saw  his  face 
darkened  by  an  uncontrollable  expression  of  antipathy 
and  even  abhorrence  suddenly  called  up  by  this  unex- 
pected meeting,  all  his  good  resolutions  vanished  and 
hot  anger  came  to  the  front. 

"  Stop  that  !  "  he  said  fiercely,  throwing  down  the  paper. 
"  I  want  you  to  stop  looking  at  me  in  that  way  !  You 
have  done  it  before  and  I  have  had  enough  of  it  ! " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


339 


"I  shall  look  as  I  please,"  said  Dunworth  without 
moving. 

"  No,  you  shall  not  ! "  said  Surrey,  rising  to  the  feet. 
"  At  least,  you  shall  not  look  at  me  as  you  please  !  It  is 
my  private  opinion  you  are  an  ass  !  You  have  behaved 
like  a  spoiled  child ;  and  now  that  you  have  got  what  you 
want  you  are  not  satisfied  and  stand  up  there  and  make 
faces.  Now,  I  wish  you  to  understand  that  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned  this  sort  of  thing  may  as  well  come  to  an  end." 

When  Surrey  had  finished,  Roger,  without  a  word,  made 
two  quick  strides  toward  him,  but  before  he  reached  him 
a  man  slipped  quickly  in  between  the  two.  It  was  the 
clerk  of  the  hotel  who  had  been  attracted  by  Surrey's  loud 
and  angry  voice. 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  we  can  have  no  personal  alter- 
cation in  this  hotel." 

Roger  was  quite  able  to  hurl  the  interfering  clerk  out  of 
the  open  door,  but  this  sort  of  thing  was  wholly  foreign  to 
his  nature  and  education.  Although  without  hesitation 
ready  to  resent  an  affront,  his  inherited  ideas  taught  him 
that  a  gentleman  should  not  indulge  in  a  broil. 

"  I  shall  settle  this  matter  in  another  way,"  he  said  as 
he  left  the  room. 

"All  right  !  "  Surrey  shouted  after  him.  "Settle  it  as 
you  please  !  I  shall  be  ready  for  you  !  " 

Dunworth  went  into  the  room  where  Prouter  was  writ- 
ing and  interrupted  his  scratching  pen.  "  Prouter,"  said 
he,  touching  him  on  the  shoulder,  "  I  want  you  to  do 
something  for  me." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Prouter,  pushing  back  his 
chair  and  springing  to  his  feet.  "  Name  your  business. 
I  am  your  man." 

"I  want  you  to  take  a  challenge  from  me  to  Mr. 
Surrey,  who  is  in  this  hotel." 


340  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Prouter  whistled.  "Ho!  ho!"  he  cried.  "Here  is 
a  go!  Do  you  mean  to  fight  a  duel  ?  " 

"Exactly  that,"  said  Dunworth.  "That  man  has 
foully  insulted  me.  I  presume  he  is  not  such  a  particular 
friend  of  yours  that  you  will  object  to  be  my  second." 

"  Friend !  "  exclaimed  Prouter.  "  I  hate  him  from  his 
hat  to  his  boot  heels.  He  came  down  here  with  me  and 
made  me  angry  enough  to  break  his  head  with  a  beer 
bottle.  Oh,  this  is  larks,  my  boy  !  I'll  be  your  second, 
quick  as  lightning.  Now  what  have  I  got  to  do  ?  Just 
let  me  finish  off  this  letter  and  post  it.  It  is  to  my 
mother  in  England,  telling  her  I  have  sold  the  milk  route. 
It  will  make  her  happy,  and  it's  the  regular  thing  to  send 
off  a  letter  like  this  before  a  duel.  Now  just  let  me  skip 
over  to  the  desk  and  get  a  tuppence-ha'penny  stamp,  and 
then  I'm  ready  for  you." 

Dunworth  took  no  notice  of  the  precipitate  assumption 
that  he  had  actually  concluded  his  bargain  with  Prouter 
when  he  had  merely  shown  a  favorable  disposition  in  regard 
to  it.  In  a  moment  the  young  Englishman  came  bound- 
ing back  to  him. 

"  Now,  what  am  I  to  do  ?  "  asked  Prouter.  "  All  I 
know  about  duels  I  got  from  Charles  O'Malley;  but 
Charles  was  a  good  touchy  fellow,  and  I  don't  doubt  he 
knew  what  he  was  about.  I  am  ready  to  go  in  any  way 
you  like ;  Irish  fashion  with  pistols,  or  sprigs  of  shilaly ; 
French  style  with  rapiers ;  or  American  style  with  lassos 
or  whatever  way  you  do  it  over  here.  Name  your  tipple." 

"All  you  have  to  do,"  said  Dunworth,  "is  to  go  to  Mr. 
Surrey  and  tell  him  that  I  insist  on  satisfaction  for  his 
insult  to  me.  He  can  either  apologize  or  meet  me, 
whichever  suits  him  better.  As  to  time,  place,  weapons, 
and  all  that  you  can  arrange  with  his  second.  I  think  you 
will  find  Mr.  Surrey  in  the  reading-room." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  341 

"Good!"  oried  Prouter.  "And  I'll  plump  it  on  him 
without  waiting  a  minute.  By  George  !  this  is  larks! 
Lots  better  than  serving  milk,  I  can  tell  you!  " 

Prouter  now  hastened  away,  and  Dunworth  walked 
very  slowly  toward  the  broad  stairs  which  led  up  to  the 
parlor  floor.  He  was  trying  to  make  up  his  mind  what 
he  should  say  to  Ardis.  Of  course  he  could  not  tell  her 
of  the  business  on  which  he  had  sent  Prouter.  But  he 
had  not  yet  had  time  to  decide  how  he  should  explain  to 
her  his  abrupt  departure  and  his  long  absence  from  the 
hotel.  As  he  went  up  the  stairs  he  determined  that  he 
would  be  perfectly  frank  with  her.  He  would  tell  her 
how  he  came  to  suddenly  leave  the  room ;  why  his  mind 
had  been  so  greatly  troubled;  and  what  he  had  been 
thinking  and  resolving.  She  should  know  everything 
except  his  recent  meeting  with  Surrey.  Then  she  should 
tell  him  what  she  had  to  say,  and  they  would  talk  over  the 
matter  earnestly  and  kindly.  That  was  the  way  in  which 
every  apparent  difference  between  Ardis  and  himself 
should  now  be  settled. 

But  when  he  reached  the  parlor  he  found  only  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Chiverley,  who  were  very  anxious  about  him. 
They  were  certain  something  had  happened,  but  did  not 
know  what  it  was ;  for  Dr.  Lester  had  again  gone  out  to 
look  for  Roger,  and  Ardis  had  been  entirely  reticent  on 
the  subject  of  her  lover's  non-appearance  and  had  early 
retired  to  her  room. 

Roger  eagerly  inquired  for  Ardis.  Mrs.  Chiverley 
jumped  up  and  said  she  would  go  to  her  room  and  get 
her  to  come  down.  The  little  lady  was  delighted  to  fly 
upon  this  errand.  She  had  heard  of  the  arrival  of  Surrey, 
although  she  had  not  seen  him,  and  she  was  afraid  he  had 
occasioned  some  new  trouble  between  Ardis  and  Roger, 
and  that  the  latter  had  perhaps  gone  away  to  South 


342  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

America  or  to  Europe.  But  now  she  was  sure  that 
everything  must  be  all  right,  for  here  was  the  lover 
anxious  to  see  his  lady. 

Mrs.  Chiverley  found  her  friend  preparing  to  retire.  It 
was  quite  plain  that  the  information  that  Roger  was  in 
the  parlor  desiring  greatly  to  see  her,  gave  Ardis  relief 
and  pleasure ;  but  she  did  not  consent  to  go  down.  To 
go  into  the  parlor  now  to  receive  explanations  or  to  give 
them  would  be  very  formal  business.  Whatever  Roger 
had  to  say  to  her,  she  had  a  great  deal  to  say  to  him,  and 
the  public  parlor  at  this  hour  was  no  place  for  such  a 
conversation.  They  could  meet  early  in  the  morning, 
and  then,  if  they  chose,  could  take  a  walk  and  have  their 
talk. 

"  Do  you  know  how  late  it  is  ?  "  she  said.  "  It  is  nearly 
ten  o'olock.  I  shall  not  go  down  again  to-night.  I  think 
you  must  be  tired  enough  to  go  to  bed,  my  dear,  but  if 
you  intend  to  return  to  the  parlor,  and  should  see  Mr. 
Dunworth,  will  you  tell  him  that  I  shall  be  up  early,  and 
will  see  him  to-morrow  morning  before  breakfast  ?  "  And 
she  gave  Mrs.  Chiverley  a  good-night  kiss. 

"  Whatever  has  happened,"  thought  that  lady,  as  she 
went  down-stairs,  "  and  I  don't  believe  it  was  anything  of 
importance,  I  wish  Mr.  Dunworth  had  had  that  kiss." 

Roger  was  greatly  downcast  by  the  message,  and  sat 
silently  gazing  upon  the  floor.  Mr.  Chiverley  was  talking 
to  a  little  girl  belonging  to  a  party  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room,  and  who  had  found  out  that  he  was  a  natural  friend 
of  children;  but  while  he  talked  to  the  child  his  eyes 
were  anxiously  fixed  upon  Roger.  A  quick  thought  now 
flashed  into  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Chiverley.  Calling  the 
child  to  her,  she  took  her  rosy  face  between  her  hands 
and  kissed  her. 

"  Do  you  see  that  gentleman  over  there  ?  "    she  whis- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEK.  343 

pered.  "  Go  to  him  and  give  him  that  kiss  and  tell  him 
it  is  from  Miss  Ardis." 

"  Are  you  Miss  Ardis  ?  "  asked  the  little  girl. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  smiling,  "but  she  gave  it 
to  me,  and  I  gave  it  to  you,  and  I  want  you  to  give  it  to 
him." 

The  child  laughed.  "  That  is  funny  !  "  she  said.  "  I'll 
go  and  do  it!  " 

The  little  girl  approached  Roger,  and  in  a  low  voice 
said  to  him:  "Please  put  down  your  head,  sir.  I  have  a 
kiss  that  belongs  to  you." 

Roger  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  as  if  he  were  trying 
to  fix  his  thoughts  upon  her,  and  then  he  said :  "  What  do 
you  mean,  little  girl  ?  " 

"  It  is  only  a  kiss,"  she  said,  "  and  it  comes  from  Miss 
Ardis.  Do  you  want  it  ?  " 

The  sudden  joy  that  flashed  into  the  face  of  Roger 
startled  the  child  and  she  stepped  back ;  but  in  an  instant 
she  was  caught  in  his  strong  arms  and  lifted  to  his  face. 

"  That  is  all,"  she  said,  with  a  little  struggle.  "  Put 
me  down."  The  moment  her  feet  touched  the  floor  she 
slipped  from  him,  and  with  a  little  laugh  over  her  shoulder, 
ran  away. 

"Josie,  where  have  you  been?"  asked  her  mother 
when  the  child  joined  the  group  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room. 

"I  have  been  carrying  kisses,"  she  said,  "just  like  a 
postman  delivers  letters,  except  that  I  only  had  one." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  exclaimed  her  mother.  "  To 
whom  did  you  take  a  kiss  ?  " 

"  To  a  very  nice  gentleman,  mamma,  and  a  lady  sent 
it." 

"Josie,  I  am  perfectly  amazed!  " 

"  Mamma,"  said  the  child,  standing  up  very  straight 


344  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

and  flushing  a  little,  "  You  need  not  begin  ;o  scold  me, 
for  I  am  sure  that  if  you  had  known  how  glad  he  would  be 
to  get  it,  you  would  have  been  perfectly  willing  to  carry  it 
yourself." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  had  seen  how  glad  he  was  to  get  the 
kiss,  and  the  sight  sent  her  to  bed  happy.  "  If  that  is 
the  way  he  feels,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  there  is  certainly 
nothing  the  matter.  And  even  if  there  has  been  the  least 
little  cloud  between  them,  it  will  blow  away  the  minute 
they  come  together."  And  the  little  deception  she  had 
practised  did  not  weigh  upon  her  conscience  in  the  least. 


ARDIS  CLATERDEN.  345 


CHAPTER   XXXV. 

ROGER  went  to  his  room  jubilant.  If  Ardis  had  sent 
a  little  girl  to  give  him  a  kiss,  it  showed  that  this 
was  still  a  world  of  joy,  in  which  she  was  the  noblest, 
loveliest  being  breathing.  There  was  something  so 
charming,  so  delicate  and  yet  so  forcible,  in  the  means 
which  she  had  taken  to  show  him  that  although  she  did 
not  come  down  to  him  she  did  not  wish  him  to  forget  that 
she  was  his  very  own,  that  the  enraptured  lover  could 
scarcely  restrain  himself  from  bursting  into  triumphant 
song.  He  had  not  long  luxuriated  in  these  delightful 
emotions  when  Tom  Prouter  came  in. 

"  All  settled  ! "  exclaimed  the  young  Englishman. 
"  Everything  ready  and  right  as  a  trivet  !  By  George  \ 
I  am  glad  to  see  you  in  as  highcockalorum  a  humor 
as  I  am!  And  I  don't  wonder  at  it.  The  thought  of 
punishing  such  a  downright  rascal  as  that  Surrey  is  enough 
to  put  anybody  in  good  spirits.  Do  you  know  what  he 
did  when  I  took  him  your  challenge  ?  He  accepted 
it  instanter  and  then  he  burst  out  laughing  because  I 
brought  it.  He  said  my  bringing  him  a  challenge  fitted 
in  more  beautifully  than  anything  he  had  ever  seen.  It 
was  such  an  absurdly  perfect  fit  that  it  was  positively 
ludicrous.  By  George!  he  made  me  so  angry  that  I  was 
ready  to  take  a  second  mortgage  on  him  myself  ! " 

"  What  have  you  settled  upon  ?  "  asked  Roger. 

"  The  first  thing  we  did, "  said  Prouter,  "  was  to  get 
him  a  second.  He  don't  know  anybody  here,  and  you 
told  me  you  didn't  want  Dr.  Lester  or  your  friends  to 


346  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

know  anything  about  it.  So  we  got  the  day  clerk  of  the 
hotel.  The  night  clerk  said  he  would  be  perfectly  willing 
to  oblige  us,  but  he  had  to  be  on  duty  until  breakfast 
and  so  couldn't  get  away  at  daybreak.  But  the  other 
clerk  got  up  out  of  his  bed  and  talked  over  the  matter 
with  us,  and  was  as  obliging  as  anybody  could  be.  In 
fact,  he  managed  the  whole  thing.  He  provided  the 
pistols,  fixed  the  time,  and  said  he  knew  of  an  excellent 
place  not  far  from  the  hotel  where  we  would  run  no  risk 
of  being  disturbed  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morning.  Now, 
really,  Mr.  Dunworth,  your  hotels  are  very  different  from 
ours.  You  can  call  for  a  cocktail,  a  theatre  ticket,  or  a 
second  in  a  duel.  By  George,  sir!  I  believe  if  you  rang 
your  bell  and  ordered  an  articulated  skeleton  the  waiter 
would  bring  it  up!  " 

"  It  is  decided  then,"  said  Dunworth,  "  that  we  are  to 
meet  early  in  the  morning  ?  " 

"  That's  it,"  said  his  lively  second,  "  and  you  need  give 
yourself  no  further  trouble  about  it.  Til  call  you  when 
it's  time  to  get  ready  to  go." 

Prouter  left  Roger  Dunworth  in  a  very  different  mood 
from  that  in  which  he  had  found  him.  When  he  thought 
of  the  cold-blooded  performance  which  was  to  take  place 
the  next  morning,  he  cursed  in  his  heart  the  man  who  had 
brought  this  thing  upon  him  at  this  time,  when  life  was 
just  opening  before  him  in  all  its  true  glory  and  joy.  He 
felt  a  fierce  impatience  for  the  hour  to  come  when  he 
might  destroy  and  utterly  put  out  of  the  way  this  demon 
of  bad  omen,  who  seemed  continually  to  rise  between 
him  and  happiness.  Otherwise,  at  the  very  marriage 
altar  he  might  expect  him  to  appear. 

But  at  this  thought  the  tenor  of  his  feelings  changed. 
There  might  be  no  marriage  altar  !  What  a  dreadful 
business  it  was  that  at  the  very  opening  of  his  new  life  he 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  347 

should  voluntarily  allow  this  life  to  depend  upon  the  ar- 
rangements of  the  hotel  clerk  and  Prouter  and  upon  the 
accuracy  of  Surrey's  aim  !  Reason  was  ready  to  tell  him 
that  he  had  no  more  right  to  thus  expose  the  life  he  had 
given  to  Ardis  Claverden  than  he  had  to  recklessly  ex- 
pose to  peril  anything  else  which  she  held  dear,  and  which 
was  her  own.  But  before  his  inherited  ideas  of  honor 
reason  was  obliged  to  step  aside.  To  be  a  coward  was 
for  him  simply  impossible,  and  to  his  mind  nothing  could 
be  more  cowardly  than  to  shrink  from  this  combat. 
He  could  not  appear  before  Ardis  knowing  that  he  had 
saved  himself  for  her  by  an  act  of  cowardice. 

Although  his  feelings  of  indignation  and  abhorrence 
toward  Surrey  did  not,  in  the  least,  abate,  he  no  longer 
felt  that  savage  desire  to  annihilate  him.  If  he  died,  it 
should  be  with  clean  hands ;  and  if  he  lived,  it  should  be 
with  clean  hands.  His  idea  of  courage  was  to  face  death, 
not  to  inflict  it. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Roger  went  to  sleep.  But 
when  he  dreamed  it  was  of  the  kiss  that  Ardis  had  sent 
him,  and  not  of  the  affairs  of  the  next  morning. 

Ardis  slept  well,  without  dreams,  and  having  gone  to 
sleep  so  soon,  she  awoke  very  early  the  next  morning. 
It  was  just  beginning  to  be  light,  but  she  could  see  it  was 
going  to  be  a  very  beautiful  day.  She  had  slept  with  her 
window  curtains  drawn  and  one  of  the  sashes  raised. 
The  weather  was  very  mild,  even  for  this  region,  and  the  air 
which  came  through  the  window  was  balmy  and  delicious. 
The  days  were  lengthening;  and  when  Ardis  palled  her 
watch  from  under  her  pillow  she  saw  that  it  was  even 
earlier  than  she  supposed,  and  so  she  lay  down  again  and 
thought. 

Her  thoughts  were  very  pleasant  ones.  Her  resentment 
toward  Roger  had  entirely  died  away,  and  the  fact  that  he 


348  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

had  wanted  to  see  her  proved  that  he  was  in  a  satisfactory 
state  of  mind.  If  he  had  behaved  foolishly  he  would  get 
a  scolding,  and  no  doubt  that  would  do  him  good.  But 
she  would  not  even  assume  that  he  had  behaved  foolishly. 
She  would  wait  and  hear  what  he  had  to  say;  that  was  just 
and  fair.  It  might  be  something  had  occurred  which  he 
could  not  mention  before  Mr.  Surrey.  This  state  of  the 
case  did  not  appear  very  probable,  but  she  would  wait 
and  hear.  Whatever  Roger  told  her  she  knew  would  be 
the  absolute  truth. 

She  now  began  to  calculate  how  soon  she  might  get  up. 
She  did  not  want  to  be  wandering  about  the  hotel  before 
other  people  were  out  of  their  beds. 

"At  eight  o'clock,"  she  said  to  herself,  "we  shall 
breakfast,  if  we  are  to  leave  in  the  morning  train.  At 
half-past  seven  Roger  will  surely  be  down-stairs,  probably 
waiting  in  the  parlor,  and  then  we  can  have  a  walk  and  a 
talk.  I  have  no  doubt  he  is  as  wildly  anxious  for  a  talk 
as  I  am.  I  shall  need  half  an  hour  to  dress,  so  I  suppose 
I  ought  not  to  get  up  before  seven." 

The  hotel  was  at  some  distance  from  the  bigness  part 
of  the  town,  and  in  its  rear  were  gardens,  and  a  grove 
stretching  away  into  the  suburbs.  The  birds  were  now 
beginning  to  sing  and  chirp,  and  as  Ardis  lay  and  listened 
to  them  she  envied  them.  "  They  can  get  up  when  they 
please,"  she  thought,  "  without  waiting  for  other  people. 
The  most  beautiful  part  of  the  day  belongs  to  them. 
After  a  time,  when  everything  is  fixed  and  settled, 
there  is  going  to  be  a  reform  in  regard  to  these  beautiful 
hours  of  the  early  morning ;  at  least  in  the  lives  of  two 
people  whom  I  know." 

This  thought  called  up  others  about  the  lives  of  two 
people,  which  were  very  charming  thoughts  to  think  as  she 
lay  there,  idly  and  happily  breathing  the  morning  air  and 
looking  out  on  the  beautiful  morning  sky. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN1.  349 

Suddenly  she  heard  a  shot,  quickly  followed  by  another. 
At  this  sound  her  face  flushed,  and  her  brows  slightly 
knitted. 

"  It  is  a  shame,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  an  outrageous 
shame,  for  people  to  shoot  the  birds  as  they  do.  Of 
course  it  is  not  necessary  to  shoot  these  little  creatures, 
and  it  is  sheer  wantonness  and  cruelty,  especially  at  this 
hour,  which  is  the  birds'  own  time  of  day." 

And  then  she  began  to  think  what  she  would  say  to 
some  one  on  the  subject  of  unnecessary  shooting,  although 
she  did  not  believe  there  would  be  the  slightest  need  for 
counsel  of  the  sort  in  that  quarter.  An'd  now  she  forgot 
her  momentary  anger,  and  began  to  watch  two  white 
clouds  which  were  floating,  one  after  the  other,  across  the 
sky;  and  in  her  playful  fancy  she  called  one  of  them 
Roger  and  one  herself.  The  following  cloud  appeared 
to  her  to  move  faster  than  the  other,  and  as  they  passed 
out  of  the  space  of  sky  visible  to  her,  Ardis  sat  up  and 
leaned  forward  so  she  could  continue  to  watch  her  clouds ; 
and  when  they  disappeared  they  were  very  near  each  other. 

"  They  are  sure  to  touch,"  she  said,  as  she  lay  back  on 
her  pillow.  "  Now,  I  wonder  whether  that  cloud  that  tried 
so  hard  to  overtake  the  other  was  Roger  or  I.  As  things 
have  gone  recently,  it  might  be  supposed  that  I  was  that 
cloud.  Perhaps  it  was  so,  and  if  it  was,  it  shall  be  charged 
to  the  account  of  contrary  breezes.  All  that  we  need 
think  of  is  that  at  last  the  winds  of  heaven  blew  those 
clouds  together,  and  that  ought  to  be  enough  to  make 
anybody  happy."  And  now  she  looked  at  her  watch  and 
saw  that  it  was  seven  o'clock. 

Ardis  was  about  half-dressed  when  there  came  a  quick 
treble-knock  at  her  door,  and  in  a  moment  Mrs.  Chiver- 
ley  ran  in.  She  was  pale  and  excited,  and  there  were 
tears  in  her  wide-open  eyes. 


350  ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN. 

"O  Ardis,  dear!1'  she  exclaimed.  "Don't  be  fright- 
ened! It  is  all  right  now,  and  Mr.  Dunworth  is  perfectly 
safe!" 

Ardis  had  sprung  toward  her.  "  What  do  you  mean?  " 
she  cried. 

"  Oh,  there  has  been  a  duel,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  early 
this  morning — just  a  little  while  ago.  But  you  need  not 
be  in  the  least  troubled,  for  Mr.  Dunworth  was  not  hit  at 
all  and  Mr.  Surrey  was  only  pinked.  That  is  what  Mr. 
Prouter  said,  who  told  us  about  it,  and  Mr.  Chiverley  ex- 
plained that  that  meant  a  very  slight  wound.  So  there  is 
nothing  to  grieve  about,  dear  Ardis,  and  we  ought  to  be 
thankful  that  it  turned  out  as  it  did." 

Ardis  stood  like  a  statue;  her  eyes  very  bright,  and 
fixed  upon  her  friend.  Presently  she  said :  "  Do  you 
mean  to  tell  me  that  Mr.  Surrey  and  Mr.  Dunworth  have 
fought  a  duel?" 

"Oh,  please  don't  look  at  me  like  that,  Ardis!  "  cried 
Mrs.  Chiverly.  "  They  did  fight  a  duel,  and  nobody  knew 
anything  about  it  except  that  young  Englishman  and  some 
one  connected  with  the  hotel.  Mr.  Prouter  was  a  second, 
and  he  has  just  told  all  to  Dr.  Lester  and  Mr.  Chiverley 
and  me.  Mr.  Dunworth  sent  Mr.  Surrey  the  challenge 
last  night,  but  they  kept  it  perfectly  secret." 

"  Mr.  Dunworth  sent  Mr.  Surrey  a  challenge  ?  "  said 
Ardis,  speaking  the  words  very  slowly,  and  in  a  voice  that 
did  not  seem  exactly  her  own. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  the  tears  now  running  down 
upon  her  cheeks,  "  and  we  know  everything  about  it.  I 
don't  believe  you  understand,  Ardis,  that  Roger  Dunworth 
is  perfectly  uninjured  and  Mr.  Surrey  is  only  slightly 
touched.  So  why  will  you  look  like  that?  " 

"Where  is  Mr.  Dunworth?"  said  Ardis. 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  her  friend.     "  I  have  not  seen 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  351 

him.  But  of  course  you  want  to  see  him,  and  when  you 
do  you  will  find  that  what  I  have  told  you  about  his  not 
being  hurt  is  perfectly  true.  Shall  I  send  to  him,  and  tell 
him  you  would  like  to  see  him  in  the  parlor?  " 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  wish  you  would.  I  shall 
be  down  very  soon." 

As  Ardis  turned  to  finish  her  dressing  Mrs.  Chiverley 
gazed  at  her  for  a  moment.  It  did  not  surprise  her  that 
her  friend  should  be  deeply  affected  by  the  news  she  had 
brought,  for  such  news  about  a  lover,  no  matter  how  the 
affair  had  ended,  was  enough  to  give  any  woman  a  shock ; 
but  she  could  not  understand  why  Ardis  should  look  more 
and  more  unlike  herself  even  after  she  knew,  or  ought  to 
know,  that  nothing  serious  had  occurred.  But  she  said  no 
more,  and  hurried  away  to  send  the  message  to  Dunworth. 

When  Ardis  came  down-stairs,  about  ten  minutes  after- 
ward, she  found  Dr.  Lester  alone  in  the  parlor.  His  face 
had  been  troubled,  but  it  became  much  more  so  when  his 
eyes  fell  upon  Ardis.  He  came  forward  and  took  her  by 
the  hand. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ardis,"  he  said,  "  have  you  been  made 
to  understand  that  Roger  is  wholly  unhurt?  " 

"  I  know  it,"  she  said.  And  as  she  spoke  the  doctor 
felt  his  heart  grow  numb  within  him.  His  nature  was 
very  sensitive  and  there  was  something  in  the  tone  of  her 
voice  which  appalled  him. 

"  Doctor,"  said  she,  "  is  there  a  room  where  I  can  talk 
with  him  undisturbed?" 

The  doctor's  eyes  brightened  as  he  heard  these  words. 
"  Certainly,7'  he  said.  "  There  is  a  little  parlor  opening 
from  this  one.  Will  you  step  in  there  ?  And  shall  I  send 
Roger  to  you?  " 

"  If  you  please,"  said  Ardis. 

When  Roger  opened  the  door  of  the  little  parlor  Ardis 


352  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

was  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Shutting  the 
door  with  a  thrust  he  made  a  quick  step  toward  her.  But 
she  shook  her  head. 

"  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,  Roger,"  she  said, 
"  and  you  will  please  listen." 

He,  too,  when  he  heard  her  voice,  felt  a  numbness 
creeping  upon  him.  He  stood  still  and  gazed  on  her. 

"  Roger,"  said  she,  "  you  challenged  Mr.  Surrey  to  fight 
a  duel  about  me.  I  was  not  told  so,  but  I  know  it  was 
about  me.  Unless  I  were  concerned,  you  and  Mr.  Surrey 
would  have  nothing  to  do  with  each  other.  Roger,  you 
have  been  very  jealous  of  Mr.  Surrey.  You  have  shown 
that  in  the  strongest  possible  way.  But  I  could  easily 
forgive  it  when  you  showed  it  by  going  away  from  me, 
from  your  home,  and  everything,  because  then  you  did 
not  know  that  I  loved  you.  Whether  you  had  good  rea- 
son or  not,  you  thought  that  I  loved  some  one  else,  and 
you  had  a  right  to  be  jealous  and  to  be  broken-hearted, 
and  to  do  what  you  pleased.  But  now,  Roger  Dunworth, 
everything  is  different.  I  have  told  you  that  I  love  you. 
I  grieved  that  I  let  you  go  so  long  without  knowing  it; 
and  I  travelled  hundreds  of  miles,  and  endured  hardships 
and  dangers  to  tell  you.  And  after  all  I  have  done  to 
show  you  what  I  felt,  and  after  all  we  have  said  to  each 
other  you  do  not  trust  me,  you  do  not  believe  in  me." 

"Ardis!  "  exclaimed  Roger.     "  How  can  you " 

"  Let  me  speak,"  interrupted  Ardis.  "  Stay  where  you 
are.  I  say  you  do  not  trust  me.  You  find  me  talking 
with  Mr.  Surrey;  you  dash  away;  and  that  very  night 
you  send  him  a  challenge.  Now,  it  does  not  matter 
whether  you  were  jealous  or  not,  that  showed  a  shameful 
want  of  trust  in  me.  If  you  are  jealous  at  such  a  time 
as  this,  that  is  enough  to  prove  all  I  have  said ;  but  even 
if  there  were  any  other  reason  for  you  to  risk  the  life 


ARDIS   CLA  rEKDEX. 


353 


which  you  had  just  given  to  me  and  risk  it  without  one 
word  to  me  was  the  crudest  want  of  faith  in  me.  Do 
you  not  suppose  that  I  would  have  supported  you  in  any- 
thing that  was  brave  and  honorable?  I  have  loved  you 
truly  and  loyally,  and,  what  is  more,  I  love  you  now.  But 
you  have  shown,  as  plainly  as  it  could  be  shown,  that  you 
do  not  trust  me,  that  you  do  not  believe  in  my  love.  And 
I  will  not  marry  a  man  who  does  not  trust  me.  Now  you 
can  go  your  way  and  I  will  go  mine." 

As  she  spoke  the  last  words  she  moved  quickly  toward 
the  door,  but  before  she  reached  it  Roger  sprang  toward 
her  arid  clasped  her  in  his  arms. 

"Ardis,"  he  cried,  "take  back  those  words!  Ardis! 
My  Ardis!" 

As  he  spoke  he  strained  her  to  his  heart,  but  with  a 
strength  which  surprised  him,  she  unclasped  his  arms  from 
around  her,  and  darted  out  of  the  room. 

At  the  end  of  the  large  parlor  she  found  Dr.  Lester 
waiting,  anxious  and  apprehensive.  "  Doctor,"  she  said, 
and  as  she  spoke  her  voice  was  nearly  choked  with  tears, 
"  there  is  nothing  more  between  Roger  and  me.  He  does 
not  trust  me,  and  I  will  not  marry  a  man  who  does  not 
trust  me.  Now  I  want  to  go  to  Bald  Hill  just  as 
quickly  as  I  can.  Will  you  attend  to  our  getting  off  ?  " 
And  she  went  to  her  room. 

In  little  more  than  an  hour  after  that,  Ardis  and  Dr. 
Lester,  with  the  Chiverleys,  were  on  a  northern-bound 
train.  The  latter  two  had  not  intended  returning  with 
the  party,  having  proposed  a  short  sketching  tour  in  the 
South ;  but  when  they  heard  what  had  happened  there  was 
no  further  thought  of  sketching.  Mrs.  Chiverley's  tender 
heart  would  have  ceased  to  beat  before  it  would  have  al- 
lowed her  to  leave  Ardis  until  she  had  seen  her  safe  at 
home  and  in  her  father's  arms. 
23 


354  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

Roger  remained  standing  where  Ardis  had  left  him, 
staring  straight  at  the  wall  in  front  of  him,  seeing  nothing 
and  hearing  nothing  but  the  soul-deadening  words  she  had 
said  to  him.  Every  syllable  sounded  in  his  ears  as  if  it 
had  been  just  spoken.  He  stood  thus  until  a  servant 
came  and  touched  him  on  the  arm,  having  previously 
tried  in  various  ways  to  attract  his  attention,  and  told  him 
that  she  wished  to  sweep  the  room. 

As  Roger  could  not  have  known  Ardis  so  long  without 
loving  her,  it  was  also  impossible  that  he  should  love  her 
so  long  without  knowing  her  well.  And  he  knew  that  the 
one  thing  that  would  make  her  cast  off  a  dog,  a  friend,  or 
a  lover  was  the  belief  that  that  dog,  friend,  or  lover  did 
not  trust  her.  And  this,  with  reason,  she  now  believed 
of  him. 

If  it  had  been  the  other  way,  if  she  had  had  cause  to 
distrust  him,  he  believed  that  in  time  she  would  have 
forgiven  him.  But  now  he  could  not  believe  that  she 
would  forgive  him.  To  do  what  he  had  done  at  the  time 
at  which  he  had  done  it,  aad  without  her  knowledge,  could 
not  fail  to  be  in  her  eyes  an  insult  as  well  as  a  crime. 

But  Roger  did  not  despair.  He  must  see  Dr.  Lester. 
Instinctively  he  turned  to  this  old  friend.  He  knew  that 
Ardis  would  not  see  him  at  present,  but  the  doctor  could 
see  her.  He  would  pour  out  his  heart  to  the  doctor  and 
trust  in  his  friendship. 

But  Dr.  Lester  was  not  in  the  house,  and  after  making 
himself  certain  of  this  fact,  Roger  went  up  to  his  room. 
When  he  came  down  again  he  was  surprised  to  hear  that 
the  Chiverleys,  Miss  Claverden,  and  Dr.  Lester  had  gone 
to  the  station  to  take  a  through  train  to  the  North.  This 
news  astounded  him.  It  had  been  planned  that  the  party 
should  leave  Atlanta  about  noon,  and  return  to  Virginia 
by  the  way  of  Savannah  and  Charleston ;  probably  leaving 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  355 

the  Chiverleys  at  the  latter  place.  But  now  they  had  gone 
directly  home ! 

Dunworth  rushed  put  of  the  hotel,  jumped  into  a  cab, 
and  drove  rapidly  to  the  station,  but  he  was  too  late ;  the 
through  train  had  gone.  When  he  returned  to  the  hotel 
he  made  no  inquiries  about  Prouter  or  Surrey.  He  did 
not  know  the  latter  was  wounded  and  no  thought  of  either 
of  them  entered  his  mind.  At  the  suggestion  of  the  clerk 
he  had  some  breakfast;  and  then,  in  a  state  of  nervous 
irresolution,  he  considered  the  situation.  What  he  wanted 
to  do  was  to  go  by  the  next  train  to  Bolton — to  Ardis. 
But  what  would  be  the  good  of  that?  His  reason,  even 
his  heart,  told  him  it  would  be  of  no  good  at  all.  He  did 
not  despair,  but  he  knew  it  would  be  folly  to  try  to  see 
her  now. 

As  it  would  be  well  for  him  not  to  follow  Ardis  too 
closely,  Roger  determined,  on  his  own  part,  to  carry  out 
the  original  plan  of  the  party,  and  to  go  home  by  the 
way  of  Savannah  and  Charleston.  In  Atlanta  he  could 
not  stay  a  moment  longer  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 

The  express  train  by  which  they  had  expected  to  leave 
did  not  start  until  noon,  but  Roger  felt  he  could  not  wait 
for  that.  He  must  leave  this  hated  city  at  the  earliest 
possible  moment,  and  therefore  had  himself  and  his 
valise  taken  to  the  station  in  time  to  catch  the  morning 
accommodation  train  for  Savannah.  This  travelled  slowly, 
but  it  left  soon. 

In  Savannah  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Ardis.  Hours  of 
continuous  thinking  had  led  him  to  believe  that  this  would 
be  the  best  thing  for  him  to  do.  He  could  state  his  posi- 
tion clearly  and  without  interruption;  and  if,  in  conse- 
quence, the  slightest  chance  should  be  given  him,  he  felt 
himself  able  to  plead  his  cause  in  person  in  such  a  way 
that  Ardis — who  loved  him,  for  she  had  told  him  so — • 


356  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

would  take  back  the  words  she  had  spoken.  The  hope 
grew  within  him  that  she  would  give  him  that  chance. 
She  must  have  been  very  angry  when  she  spoke  to  him 
on  the  morning  of  the  duel;  and  he  did  not  blame  her  for 
it.  But  such  anger  could  not  last  forever.  The  home 
influence  must  count  for  something.  Could  she  be,  at 
Bald  Hill,  among  the  scenes  of  their  youth,  as  unrelenting 
as  in  a  strange  city?  Her  father,  he  believed,  would  prove 
his  friend  in  this  matter.  It  was  not  likely  that  he  would 
be  so  severe  a  judge  as  his  daughter.  The  frank-hearted 
major  had  long  since  let  him  know  that  if  he  could  choose 
a  son-in-law  he  would  choose  him.  And  on  this  knowl- 
edge Roger  counted  much. 

Roger  asked  that  the  answer  to  his  letter  should  be 
sent  to  Charleston;  and  he  waited  in  that  city  until  it 
came.  Ardis'  reply  was  brief.  It  ran  thus: 

"  I  was  angry  when  I  spoke  to  you;  but  that  makes  no 
difference.  What  I  said  then  is  my  firm  conviction  now. 
The  man  who  does  not  trust  in  me,  or  who  omits  all  con- 
sideration of  me  when  he  deliberately  risks  his  life,  cannot 
be  my  husband.  No  matter  whether  he  has  done  right 
or  wrong,  he  cannot  be  my  husband.  There  could  not  be 
mutual  belief  between  us,  and  therefore  there  could  not 
be  happiness.  My  decision  is  carefully  considered  and 
final." 

When  Roger  read  this  letter  he  did  not  feel  that  he 
knew  Ardis  any  better  than  he  had  known  her  before. 
He  was  merely  reminded  that  in  writing  to  her  he  had 
allowed  himself  to  forget  what  manner  of  woman  she  was. 


ARDIS   CLA  I'ERDEX.  357 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

rPOM  PROUTER  had  been  up  the  greater  part  of  the 
I  night  cleaning  and  polishing  pistols  and  discussing 
the  code  of  honor  with  the  night  clerk.  He  had  risen 
very  early  in  the  morning ;  and  when  his  services  upon 
the  duelling-ground  had  been  concluded,  and  he  had  told 
the  story  of  the  affair  to  the  Chiverleys  and  Dr.  Lester, 
he  considered  that  he  was  entitled  to  a  short  nap.  He 
slept  so  soundly,  however,  that  probably  he  would  not 
have  wakened  until  afternoon  had  not  his  friend,  the  night 
clerk,  come  up  to  his  room  a  little  after  ten  o'clock. 

"  I  have  come  to  consult  with  you,"  the  clerk  said, 
"  about  what  is  to  be  done  with  Mr.  Surrey.  I  have  sent 
for  a  doctor,  but  he  has  not  come  yet,  and  I  don't  know 
any  other  physician  that  I  would  care  to  call  upon,  for 
in  cases  like  this  we  have  to  be  very  careful.  And  when 
the  doctor  comes  somebody  ought  to  be  on  hand  to  talk 
to  him  and  explain  matters.  Billings  was  very  willing 
to  act  as  a  second,  and  I  was  glad  to  be  of  what  service 
I  could ;  but  it  won't  do  for  either  of  us  to  be  mixed  up 
in  the  matter.  The  gentleman  may  not  be  much  hurt, 
but  then  again  he  may  be  mortally  wounded.  I  can't 
make  out  how  he  was  hit.  It  seems  to  me  a  queer  kind 
of  wound,  and  I  don't  understand  it." 

"All  right!  AH  right!"  cried  Prouter,  springing  from 
the  bed  and  pulling  out  his  watch.  "I  didn't  know  it 
was  so  late!  I'll  look  into  that  Surrey  business,"  he  con- 
tinued, as  he  hurriedly  put  on  his  coat,  "  but  first  I  must 
see  Mr.  Dunworth  and  make  arrangements  for  going 
North  with  him." 


358  ARDIS   CLAVERDEX. 

"  Mr.  Dunworth!  "  said  the  clerk.  "  He  left  for  Savan- 
nah half  an  hour  ago!  The  rest  of  his  party  had  already 
gone  North  on  the  Washington  express." 

"The  rest  of  his  party!  "  shouted  Prouter.  "  Who  arc 
they?" 

The  clerk  looked  surprised.  "  I  supposed,"  he  said, 
"that  knowing  Mr.  Dunworth  you  knew  them  all.  There 
was  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry  Chiverley,  Miss  Ardis  Claverden, 
and  Dr.  R.  C.  Lester." 

Prouter  stood  petrified.  He  had  made  for  himself  a 
very  definite  plan  of  action.  He  had  determined  to  wipe 
from  his  soul  every  taint  of  milk.  He  would  go  back  to 
Virginia  with  Dunworth  and  immediately  settle  the  trans- 
fer of  the  milk  route  and  its  appurtenances.  No  question 
of  price,  or  anything  else,  should  be  allowed  to  stand  in 
the  way.  Then,  as  soon  as  the  money  for  which  he  had 
already  written  to  his  mother  should  arrive  from  England, 
he  would  add  to  it  whatever  he  should  be  able  to  save 
from  the  wreck  of  his  latest  enterprise,  and  go  into  some 
business  suitable  for  a  gentleman.  It  appeared  to  be 
necessary  for  a  young  man  to  have  some  business  if  he 
wished  to  stand  well  in  the  opinion  of  people  in  this  part 
of  the  world ;  and  to  stand  well  in  the  opinion  of  some  of 
these  people  was,  at  present,  Mr.  Prouter's  hot  desire. 
But  this  sudden  departure  of  Dunworth  in  the  wrong  di- 
rection was  ruin  to  his  plans.  That  dreadful  weight  of 
cows,  wagons,  and  milk  pans  still  hung  around  his  neck. 

He  gave  vent  to  a  sounding  objurgation.  "Confound 
Dunworth!"  he  ejaculated.  "Why  did  he  bolt  off  to 
Charleston  without  letting  me  know?  I  had  business  of 
far  more  importance  than  anything  that  could  have  taken 
him  there!  I  was  going  back  to  Bolton  with  him  this 
morning!  " 

The  clerk  could  give  him  no  information,  and  Prouter 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  359 

continued:  "There's  another  thing!  I  never  saw  such 
tiresome  luck  as  mine !  I  didn't  see  Miss  Claverden  at 
all  and  I'd  have  given  a  horse  to  see  her!  I  hadn't  a 
notion  she  was  here.  Confound  it!  I'd  go  North  this 
minute — for  I  don't  suppose  it's  any  use  to  try  to  follow 
up  Dunworth ;  he  may  be  going  to  the  West  Indies  for 
all  I  know — but  I  can't  do  either  thing.  I'm  tied  up  here 
in  the  beastliest  way." 

"  How  is  that?  "  asked  the  clerk. 

"It's  that  vile,  beggarly,  shabby,  contemptible,  good- 
for-nothing  hound  of  a  Surrey!  You  tell  me  he  has  gone 
and  got  himself  wounded,  and  as  he  doesn't  know  a  soul 
here  to  put  him  into  proper  hands  now,  or  to  ship  his 
carcass  to  his  friends  in  case  he  pegs  out,  I  suppose,  as  I 
took  part  in  the  affair,  I  have  got  to  stay  here." 

The  clerk  replied  that  it  would  be  very  well  indeed  if 
some  one  who  knew  the  wounded  man  should  stay  here ; 
at  least  until  it  should  be  decided  whether  or  not  his  con- 
dition was  dangerous. 

"It  is  the  vilest  shame,"  said  Prouter.  "And  all  for 
such  a  worthless  dog,  who  jams  himself  into  everybody's 
business  and  spoils  everything." 

Growling  that  he  had  lost  the  chance  of  even  a  few 
minutes'  conversation  with  the  most  charming  woman  he 
had  ever  known,  and  grumbling  because  nobody  had  told 
him  that  she  was  there,  Prouter  went  up  to  Mr.  Surrey's 
room  to  ascertain  the  condition  into  which  that  most 
inconvenient  person  had  got  himself. 

"  Here's  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish,"  said  he,  as  he  opened 
the  room  door. 

Surrey  was  lying  on  a  lounge,  partly  dressed,  and  with 
his  left  shoulder  and  arm  enveloped  in  a  complicated 
bandage. 

"  I  should  say  so,"  said  he,  turning  toward  the  incomer. 


360  ARDJS  CLAl'ERDEX. 

"If  you  intended  to  come  up  here  at  all,  why  didn't  you 
come  before,  while  the  doctor  was  here,  and  back  me  up 
in  the  story  I  had  to  tell  him?" 

"You  needn't  suppose  I'll  back  up  your  stories," 
snapped  Prouter. 

"I  told  him  the  exact  facts,"  said  the  other,  "but  I 
must  admit  they  sounded  absurd.  His  belief  was  that  I 
had  been  fired  at  from  an  upper  window  or  from  a  tree- 
top,  and  as  I  had  nobody  to  support  me  in  my  statements, 
I  suppose  he  will  continue  in  that  opinion." 

"  He  must  be  an  everlasting  ass,"  said  Prouter.  "  Does 
he  suppose  anybody  would  fight  a  duel  with  one  of  the 
principals  in  the  top  of  a  tree?  " 

Surrey  laughed.  "  He  does  not  believe  it  was  a  duel 
at  all,"  said  he. 

"  Let  him  think  what  he  pleases,"  said  Prouter.  "  If  he 
hadn't  come  while  I  was  in  my  room  talking  to  the  clerk 
I  might  have  set  him  straight.  How  were  you  hit,  any- 
way?" 

"Just  on  the  top  of  the  left  shoulder,"  said  Surrey, 
"and  the  ball  went  down  in  an  oblique  direction  and 
came  out  about  two  inches  below.  I  don't  suppose  it  is 
a  bad  wound,  but  I  shall  have  to  keep  quiet  for  a  while." 

"By  George!"  exclaimed  Prouter.  " Somebody  must 
have  fired  at  you  from  a  tree!  It  couldn't  have  been  any 
of  Dunworth's  friends,  now  could  it?  " 

"  Nonsense !  "  said  Surrey.  "  The  thing  is  easily  enough 
explained.  Dunworth  and  I  both  fired  in  the  air,  but  his 
aim  was  too  near  the  perpendicular,  and  the  ball  in  falling 
struck  me  on  the  shoulder.  Everybody  knows  that  a  ball 
falling  from  a  considerable  height  will  come  down  with 
almost  as  much  force  as  that  with  which  it  went  up.  It 
was  a  good  line  shot  that  he  made." 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged,"  said  Prouter,  "if  that  isn't  just 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDE  X.  361 

like  you!  I'll  bet  six  guineas  to  sixpence  that  you  either 
made  one  step  backward  or  a  step  forward,  and  so  got 
under  the  ball.  And  more  than  that,  I  never  did  hear  of 
such  a  stupid,  muddy-headed  piece  of  folly  as  for  two  men 
to  go  out  to  fight  a  duel,  and  then  both  of  them  to  fire  in 
the  air !  You  might  as  well  have  each  staid  in  your  own 
bedrooms  and  fired  your  blasted  pistols  into  your  wash- 
hand  basins." 

"  Better,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,"  said  Surrey,  "  for 
then  I  should  not  have  been  hit." 

"And  a  great  deal  better,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
said  Prouter,  "  for  then  I  shouldn't  have  been  tied  up  by 
the  leg  to  this  beastly  business,  and  cut  out  of  a  chance 
even  to  speak  to  Miss  Claverden;  and  she  in  this  very 
hotel  up  to  half  an  hour  ago!  " 

"  Miss  Claverden !  "  said  Surrey.  "  Was  that  poor  lady 
cut  off  from  a  chance  of  speaking  to  you?  Indeed,  I  pity 
her!  And  so  she  has  gone?  " 

"  Yes,  and  that's  a  nice  kettle  of  fish,  too,"  said  Prouter, 
"now  that  I  have  thought  it  over!  Here  is  Miss  Claver- 
den gone  off  to  Bald  Hill  with  the  doctor  and  those  other 
people ;  and  here  is  Dunworth  pitching  off  to  Savannah 
and  nobody  knows  where  else  besides.  There  has  been 
a  row.  That  is  plain  enough.  By  George!  I  believe 
you  are  a  double-barrelled  nuisance!  On  the  one  hand 
you  come  down  here  and  set  people  by  the  ears  with  your 
stupid  duels ;  and  at  the  same  time  you  interfere  in  my 
business  by  driving  Dunworth  away  just  as  he  was  about 
to  buy  my  milk  route.  The  thing  was  as  good  as  settled 
until  this  row  came  on.  By  George!  I  wish  you  had 
fought  a  duel  with  some  other  ass  on  your  way  down  here, 
and  that  he  had  shot  you!  " 

"The  other  ass  didn't  challenge  me,"  said  Surrey,  "al- 
though I  noticed  that  he  seemed  in  a  suitable  -humor  for 


362  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

such  business.  But  do  you  mean  that  there  has  been  a 
mis-understanding  between  Dunworth  and  Miss  Claverden, 
and  that  they  have  gone  away  in  opposite  directions?  " 

"  I  said,"  replied  Prouter,  "  that  they  went  off  at  differ- 
ent times  and  in  different  ways.  If  that  ball  had  gone 
into  your  skull  instead  of  your  shoulder,  it  would  have  let 
in  enough  light  on  your  brain  for  you  to  see  for  yourself 
that  there  must  have  been  a  row.7' 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that,"  said  Surrey,  and  for  a 
time  he  was  silent. 

"  If  I  had  been  in  Dunworth's  place,"  said  Prouter, 
"and  you  had  come  down  here  after  Miss  Claverden — 
and  I  dare  say  that  is  what  you  did  come  for — I  would 
have  shot  you  like  a  dog." 

"  I  have  no  doubt,"  said  Surrey,  "  that  if  you  had  done 
it  at  all  you  would  have  done  it  like  a  dog." 

"And  why,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  stupid,"  said 
Prouter,  "  did  you  fire  into  the  air?  " 

"  I  didn't  want  to  hurt  him,"  said  Surrey.  "  I  knew 
that  he  was  engaged  to  Miss  Claverden,  and  I  fired  into 
the  air  out  of  regard  for  her." 

"And,  like  as  not,"  said  Prouter,  "  you  hit  some  pious 
old  widow  picking  up  sticks.  It  would  serve  you  right  if 
her  body  was  to  be  fetched  in  now." 

"Not  in  here,  I  hope,"  said  Surrey.  "And  do  you 
know  I  haven't  had  any  breakfast  yet?  Will  you  ring 
that  bell?  And  when  the  man  comes  I  will  tell  him  what 
I  want." 

Prouter  rang  the  bell,  and  then  he  turned  and  again 
addressed  Surrey.  " By  George !"  he  said.  "You  have 
the  most  beastly,  monotonous  way  of  making  trouble! 
First  you  had  that  rumpus  with  that  wild  man  of  the 
woods  in  those  underground  holes  at  Ridgeby — which 
half  the  people  believed  was  a  put-up  job^-and  so  got 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  363 

yourself  laid  up  at  Bald  Hill,  where  you  weren't  wanted. 
And  now  you've  gone  and  acted  in  the  same  tiresome 
way,  and  got  yourself  hurt  again  and  laid  up.  And  this 
time  it  is  my  business  that  is  knocked  into  a  cocked  hat!  " 

"  Look  here,"  said  Surrey,  "what  will  you  take  for  your 
milk  concern?  " 

"Take!"  cried  Prouter.  "You  needn't  suppose  I'd 
sell  it  to  you!  By  George!  if  you  were  to  go  about 
serving  milk  in  Bolton,  you'd  make  a  row  in  every  family 
in  the  place." 

Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  the  entrance 
of  a  waiter.  When  Surrey  had  ordered  a  slight  repast 
Prouter  remarked: 

"I  haven't  had  any  breakfast,  either.  I've  a  mind  to 
order  some  brought  up  at  the  same  time,  if  it  wouldn't 
make  your  temper  any  worse  to  see  a  man  eat  a  Christian 
meal." 

"  My  temper  can  stand  it,"  said  Surrey.  And  Prouter 
ordered  a  bountiful  breakfast,  with  beer. 

When  the  meal  had  been  finished  and  the  things  taken 
away  Surrey  remarked:  "  I  don't  suppose  it  will  injure  my 
shoulder  for  me  to  have  a  smoke.  Will  you  be  good 
enough  to  hand  me  that  paper  of  cigarettes  from  the 
mantel-piece?  And  the  match-box,  please?" 

Prouter  did  as  he  was  asked,  and  Surrey  suggested  that 
he  should  help  himself  to  a  cigarette. 

"  Never  smoke  'em,"  said  Prouter.  "  I  dare  say,  now, 
the  smell  of  a  decent  pipe  would  swell  up  that  shoulder 
of  yours." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  said  Surrey.  "  Smoke  away,  if  you 
want  to." 

Prouter  pulled  from  his  pocket  a  little  brown  pipe  and 
a  bag  of  tobacco,  and  sat  down  by  the  open  window, 
where,  for  some  time,  he  puffed  in  silence.  "  By  George !  " 


364  ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 

he  suddenly  cried,  springing  to  his  feet.  "  What  a  jolly 
notion  that  up-shot  shooting  would  be  for  a  fellow  who 
wanted  to  commit  suicide,  especially  if  he  had  a  fancy  for 
a  rifle,  as  many  fellows  have.  He  could  just  hold  his  gun 
straight  up,  perpendicular,  present  arms;  then  pull  the 
trigger  and  step  forward  twelve  inches,  and  the  ball  drops 
on  his  head,  and,  most  likely,  goes  through  to  his  boots. 
That  is  a  deucedly  good  idea.  You  might  put  a  round 
bit  of  white  paper  on  top  of  your  head  and  see  if  you  could 
hit  it.  It  would  make  the  thing  interesting." 

Surrey  laughed.  "And  if  you  happened  to  be  an  Eng- 
lishman,'' he  said,  "you'd  make  a  bet  with  yourself  that 
you  couldn't  hit  the  paper  once  out  of  three  shots." 

Prouter  gave  a  grunt.  "  It's  not  a  bad  notion,"  he 
said,  "but  I  dare  say  you  couldn't  be  persuaded  to  try  it." 

"Not  at  present,"  replied  Surrey.  "You  see,  my  left 
shoulder  will  be  stiff  for  a  while,  and  I  couldn't  present 
arms.  By  the  way,  I  suppose  you  will  be  going  out  for  a 
walk  presently?  " 

"  Of  course  I  shall,"  said  Prouter.  "  I  can't  stay  long 
in  this  cooped-up  hole." 

"  Then  I  shall  be  obliged  to  you,"  said  Surrey,  "  if  you 
will  get  this  prescription  made  up  for  me.  It  is  some  sort 
of  a  smear,  and  does  not  have  to  be  used  until  afternoon, 
but  I  might  as  well  have  it  on  hand." 

Prouter  took  the  paper,  put  it  in  his  waistcoat  pocket, 
stuffed  his  two  hands  in  the  pockets  of  his  travelling-jacket, 
and  marched  out  of  the  room.  He  strode  along  the 
streets  until  he  came  to  an  apothecary  shop,  and  enter- 
ing, he  presented  the  prescription  to  a  clerk. 

"What's  that  for?  "  he  said. 

The  man  looked  at  it.  "  It  is  an  ointment,"  he  replied, 
"but,  of  course,  I  don't  know  what  it's  for." 

"  Give  it  back,"  said  Prouter.  "A  man  who  doesn't  know 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  365 

what  stuff  is  intended  for  doesn't  know  enough  to  make 
up  stuff  for  me/' 

In  the  next  shop  he  entered,  the  attendant  in  charge 
expressed  it  as  his  opinion  that  the  ointment  was  intended 
for  a  cut  or  a  wound  of  some  sort. 

"Good!"  said  Prouter.  "You  know  your  business. 
Go  on  and  make  it  up.  I'll  take  a  spin  along  the  street 
and  come  back  and  get  it." 

Surrey's  wound  was  not  a  severe  one  and  healed  rapidly, 
but  it  was  four  days  before  his  physician  told  him  that  he 
was  fit  to  travel.  During  this  time  Prouter  remained  at 
the  hotel,  giving  Surrey  a  good  deal  of  gruff  and  vitupera- 
tive social  intercourse,  and  attending  to  his  various  needs 
and  wants  with  every  indication  of  hearty  disapproval. 

Surrey  never  asked  him  how  lonr  he  was  going  to  stay 
in  Atlanta,  nor  why  he  staid  at  all.  He  knew  his  man 
too  well  and  found  him  too  useful  to  enter  into  the  dis- 
cussion of  that  subject.  He  bore  with  unruffled  good- 
humor  the  most  blood-thirsty  hopes  for  his  speedy  extinc- 
tion, and  the  reiterated  expressions  of  undying  hatred  of 
his  purposes,  his  principles,  and  his  practices;  and  when 
he  wanted  anything  done  he  asked  Prouter  to  do  it,  and 
in  every  instance  it  was  done.  Thus  it  happened  that 
these  two  left  Atlanta  together  and  journeyed  to  Bolton ; 
Prouter  much  angered  by  the  notion  which  had  suddenly 
come  to  him  that  by  this  time  Dunworth  might  have  met 
with  some  one  else  who  had  a  milk  route  to  sell  and  had 
bought  it. 

A  short  time  before  their  train  reached  Bolton,  Prouter 
came  to  Surrey — they  occupied  seats  at  some  distance  from 
each  other — and  said:  "  What  are  you  going  to  do?  Shall 
you  travel  on  to  your  home — if  you  have  any — or  do  you 
intend  to  stop  at  Bolton  and  make  more  trouble?" 

"  I   shall  go  straight  en  to  New  York,"  said   Surrey. 


366  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Didn't  you  know  that  I  bought  a  through  ticket  at  At- 
lanta?" 

"How  should  I  know?'1  said  Prouter.  "  I  wasn't  listen- 
ing to  you  when  you  booked.  And,  besides,  people  may 
stop  over  on  through  tickets." 

"  But  I  shall  not,"  said  Surrey. 

Prouter  stood  for  some  moments,  bracing  himself,  on 
account  of  the  motion  of  the  car,  against  the  side  of  Sur- 
rey's seat.  "  That  will  be  the  best  thing  you  can  do,"  he 
said.  "  I  don't  suppose  there  is  a  person  in  these  parts 
who  doesn't  hate  you  as  he  hates  the  devil." 

At  this  remark  a  young  woman  in  the  seat  in  front  of 
Surrey  turned  half-round  and  looked  at  the  two  men,  after 
which  she  resumed  her  former  position,  but  listened  at- 
tentively to  the  rest  of  the  conversation ;  while  a  man  be- 
hind them  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Prouter  with  an  interested 
grin. 

"  Do  you  intend  to  stay  on  here,"  asked  Surrey,  "  after 
you  have  got  rid  of  your  lean  Idne?  " 

"Yes,  I  do,"  said  Prouter.  "I  am  going  into  another 
business." 

"Matrimony,  perhaps?"  asked  Surrey. 

"  It  will  be  that  if  I  choose  it,"  retorted  the  other. 

"Any  particular  person?"  asked  Surrey. 

Prouter  did  not  immediately  answer.  He  seemed  to 
be  considering  the  subject.  "  It  may  be  a  very  particular 
person,"  he  said  presently,  "and  Bald  Hill  is  her  home. 
And  I  want  to  say  to  you,  fair  and  square,  that  if  I  go  in 
for  that  sort  of  thing  you'd  better  not  get  in  my  way! 
There  is  nothing  I'd  pitch  into  quicker  than  a  dog  in  a 
manger!  " 

"  For  your  own  good  and  the  comfort  of  the  lady," 
said  Surrey,  "  I  would  advise  you  to  drop  that  notion.  Her 
affairs  are  settled.  She  is  engaged  to  be  married." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  367 

"  She  was,  you  mean,"  said  Prouter,  quickly,  "  but  that 
is  broken  off.  If  the  whole  thing  hadn't  been  knocked 
higher  than  a  kite,  as  you  Americans  say,  the  man  wouldn't 
have  gone  off  in  one  direction  and  the  lady  in  another. 
I  shall  pitch  in  on  my  own  account!  " 

Surrey  smiled.  "  I  think  you  were  going  to  mention 
some  other  business;  something,  perhaps,  that  you  can 
do  better." 

"  Of  course  I  meant  another  business,"  replied  Prouter. 
"  I  am  going  into  vine-growing.  I  decided  to  do  that  yes- 
terday morning.  I  shall  set  out  a  big  vineyard.  It  will 
be  a  jolly  sort  of  life.  I'll  build  a  little  house  right  in  the 
middle  of  it,  with  windows  all  around  so  that  I  can  shoot 
the  thieves  who  come  after  my  grapes.  Two  rooms  down 
stairs  and  two  up.  Have  a  woman  to  come  in  and  cook. 
Jolly  independent,  all  that!  I'll  sleep  in  one  of  the  bed- 
rooms myself.  I  dare  say  you'll  never  have  the  cheek  to 
show  yourself  in  this  part  of  the  country  again ;  but  if  you 
should  ever  happen  to  come  down  here  on  any  decent 
business,  and  if  no  gentleman  should  want  you  in  his 
house,  you  might  stop  with  me." 

"  Thanks  for  making  yourself  such  a  striking  excep- 
tion," said  Surrey.  "  If  I  come  down  here,  and  you  have 
your  little  house,  I'll  stop  with  you.  But  your  plan  for  a 
snug  bachelor's  establishment  doesn't  agree  with  your 
matrimonial  intentions." 

"  Confound  it !  "  exclaimed  Prouter.  "  That  slipped  my 
mind !  I'll  be  hanged  if  you  don't  always  make  trouble ! 
Now  you  have  knocked  that  thing  into  a  cocked  hat!  Of 
course  she  wouldn't  come  to  a  shanty  in  a  vineyard! 
Every  time  you  open  your  mouth  or  lift  a  finger  you  make 
trouble." 

At  this  outburst  Surrey  was  much  amused,  and  so  was 
the  young  woman  in  front  and  the  man  behind  them. 


3 68  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

"  Don't  be  angry,"  said  Surrey.  "  Perhaps  I  may  meet 
somebody  who  wants  to  go  into  milk;  and  if  I  do,  I'll 
send  him  straight  down  to  you." 

"Milk!"  said  Prouter  scornfully;  and  he  strode  back 
to  his  seat. 


AXDIS  CLAVERDEN.  369 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

TT  THEN  Ardis  with  her  friends  reached  Bolton  she  was 
VV  met  by  a  delighted  but  astonished  father.  He  had 
been  informed  by  telegraph  that  they  would  arrive,  but 
he  could  not  imagine  why  she  and  the  Chiverleys  should 
wish  to  be  in  Virginia  at  this  season.  To  come  from  the 
South  to  this  raw,  chilly  air,  to  the  dreary  roads  rendered 
almost  impassable  by  the  thawing  of  the  red  clay,  and  to 
the  general  unpleasantness  of  a  country  landscape  just 
emerging  from  winter  into  a  very  uncertain  and  sloppy 
spring  was  not  what  he  would  have  expected  of  them. 

But  that  Ardis  wanted  to  come  to  her  home  and  to 
him,  no  matter  at  what  season,  was  a  joy  to  his  heart  until 
the  two  had  sat  together  by  the  library  fire  and  she  had 
told  him  her  story. 

She  began  at  the  beginning  and  told  him  everything; 
and  as  he  listened  sometimes  his  eyes  filled  with  tears  of 
fatherly  affection,  and  sometimes  they  sparkled  with 
fatherly  pride.  Did  ever  man  have  such  a  daughter? 
But  when,  at  last,  she  told  him  how  it  had  all  ended,  his 
heart  sank  and  he  bowed  his  head.  He  was  greatly 
grieved  and  disappointed.  But  when  Ardis  had  finished 
and  looked  up  into  his  face,  waiting  for  him  to  speak,  he 
took  her  into  his  arms  and  pressed  her  brave  heart  against 
one  every  whit  as  brave. 

'*  My  dear  child,"  he  said,  "  I  sorrow  much  that  the  end 

of  it  all  should  be  what  it  is ;   but  had  I  been  in  your 

place,  I  would  have  done  what  you  did ;  provided,  indeed,  I 

had  had  the  courage  to  carry  out  my  principles.     And  for 

24 


370  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

all  that  you  have  dared,  and  for  all  that  you  have  done, 
and  for  all  that  you  have  lost,  I  love  you  better  than  I 
ever  did  before/' 

After  this  the'  father  and  daughter  talked  no  more  upon 
the  subject.  Ardis  endeavored,  in  a  measure,  to  resume 
her  ordinary  Bald  Hill  life,  but  she  did  not  make  a  success 
of  it.  Planks  had  to  be  laid,  on  which  she  could  walk  to 
her  studio;  and  when  she  got  there  she  found  the  great 
room  very  cold  and  disagreeable,  the  largest  of  wood  fires 
failing  to  make  much  impression  upon  its  stored-up  chilli- 
ness. 

Norma  Cranton  tried  to  get  over  to  see  Ardis,  but  the 
road  between  Heatherley  and  Bald  Hill  was  very  bad,  and 
when  she  had  gone  about  half-way  her  carriage  stuck  fast, 
and  she  had  to  be  taken  back  home  in  an  ox-cart. 

Besides  Dr.  Lester,  who  would  have  walked  on  a  fence- 
top  to  get  to  Bald  Hill,  Ardis  had  but  one  visitor, -Mr. 
Egbert  Dalrymple.  He  had  been  enjoying  a  social  season 
in  Washington,  and  had  thrown  up  all  the  delights  of  the 
capital  upon  hearing  that  Miss  Claverden  had  returned  to 
her  home. 

And  on  the  day  after  his  arrival  at  his  father's  house, 
he  presented  himself  at  Bald  Hill  in  a  new  suit  of  the 
shade  of  a  pussy-willow,  and  a  blossom  of  premature  spring 
in  his  buttonhole,  while  his  legs,  and  even  the  skirts  of  his 
coat,  were  bountifully  bedecked  by  the  red  and  very  sea- 
sonable splashes  of  color  bestowed  upon  them  by  the  road. 
Several  times  his  horse  had  been  almost  mired,  but  Mr. 
Dalrymple  was  bound  to  reach  Bald  Hill ;  and  by  dint  of 
making  several  cross-country  cuts  he  succeeded. 

This  young  gentleman  did  not  in  the  least  endeavor  to 
disguise  the  object  of  his  visit.  He  came  to  woo  Miss 
Claverden;  and  the  plainer  this  purpose  should  be  to  all 
parties  who  had  a  right  to  be  concerned,  the  better  he 


ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN.  371 

would  be  satisfied.  He  did  not  know,  nor  did  he  care  to 
know,  whether  or  not  she  was  engaged  to  any  one  else. 
He  intended  to  woo  and  to  win  her,  and  to  the  considera- 
tion of  obstacles  he  gave  no  thought  whatever. 

As  opportunities  for  private  converse  with  Ardis  were 
extremely  uncertain,  Mr.  Dalrymple  had  determined  to 
declare  his  passion  during  this  morning  visit,  and  he  cer- 
tainly would  have  done  so  if  Mrs.  Chiverley  had  given  him 
a  chance.  The  soul  of  that  lady  was  filled  with  thoughts 
of  Ardis,  and  she  watched  her  with  that  tender  solicitude 
which  a  woman  has  who  grieves  for  another.  With  that 
clear  vision  which  enabled  her  to  see  what  people  ought 
to  paint  as  well  as  what  they  had  painted,  she  saw  the 
purpose  which  this  young  man  had  painted  on  his  coun- 
tenance, and  she  resolved  that  she  would  give  him  no  op- 
portunity to  worry  Ardis. 

She  succeeded  perfectly  in  warding  off  Mr.  Dalrymple's 
intended  action;  and  at  last  that  young  man  suddenly 
arose,  took  abrupt  leave  of  Ardis,  not  noticing  the  other 
lady,  and  went  out.  He  stopped  for  a  moment  on  the 
porch.  Folding  his  arms  he  looked  about  him;  at  the 
milk-and-water  colored  sky,  the  oozy  lawn,  and  upon  the 
bare-twigged  trees,  vainly  holding  up  their  rounded  but 
still  tightly  imprisoned  buds  to  the  impotent  and  sickly 
rays  of  an  intermittent  sun.  He  frowned  and  nodded  his 
head;  then  ejaculating  "So!"  he  went  down  and 
mounted  his  muddy  horse. 

As  he  slowly  waded  and  splashed  home  the  soul  of 
Egbert  Dalrymple  was  filled  with  loathing  of  that  woman, 
Mrs.  Chiverley.  He  had  never  met  any  one  who  acted 
so  disastrously  upon  the  harmonies  of  his  nature.  She 
unattuned  him.  She  jangled  the  chords  of  his  every  sym- 
pathy. He  had  never  seen  any  one  who  had  so  slight  an 
appreciation  of  the  fit.  If  she  had  remained  quietly  seated 


372  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

in  the  room  wherein  he  had  stood  gazing  down  upon  Ardis 
it  would  have  been  better,  for  then  he  would  have  invited 
the  impulse  of  his  dreams  to  stroll  with  him  in  the  open, 
but  just  as  he  thought  to  speak  of  this,  this  woman  would 
go  out,  and  then,  before,  he  could  subdue  the  discord  in 
his  soul,  back  she  would  come ;  bringing  in  one  instance 
her  utterly  extraneous  husband,  with  whom  she  said  she 
was  sure  he,  Egbert  Dalrymple,  would  be  glad  to  be  ac- 
quainted. Bah!  what  a  world!  It  would  be  simply  im- 
possible for  him  to  touch  the  strings  of  his  passion's  lute 
if  he  did  but  know  that  such  a  woman  was  in  the  house ! 
Happily,  he  ha-d  heard  her  say  that  her  stay  at  Bald  Hill 
would  not  be  long.  He  would  give  her  time  to  depart, 
and  then  he  would  return,  and  again  standing  before  Ardis, 
would  touch  that  note  which  must  raise  in  her  fair  soul  a 
vibrant  swell. 

In  four  days  he  came  again,  and  found  that  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Chiverley  had  gone  to  New  York  and  had  taken 
Ardis  with  them.  When  this  news  was  delivered  to  him 
by  a  servant  at  the  door,  he  turned  without  a  word  and 
went  away.  Not  even  his  favorite  monosyllable  was  tossed 
out  upon  the  moisty  air.  When  he  reached  his  home  he 
muttered  to  his  family  a  few  words  indicating  his  intention 
to  depart,  tossed  carelessly  some  articles  of  clothing  into 
a  valise,  and  gave  orders  for  something  to  take  him  to  the 
station.  When  his  sister  asked  him  to  leave  his  address, 
he  gazed  for  a  few  moments  over  her  head  and  then  said: 

"  Write  to  me  at  the  outer  courts  of  Pa-radise." 

"Does  that  mean,  'Care  Mr.  John  S.  Buckley,  386 
Lafayette  Place,  New  York'  ?" 

"  As  you  will,"  he  said,  and  went  his  way. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chiverley  had  talked  a  good  deal  upon 
the  subject  on  which  Major  Claverden  and  his  daughter 
spoke  not  at  all,  and  they  had  not  found  it  difficult  to 


ARDIS   CLA  VKKDEN.  373 

convince  each  other  that  Ardis  ought  not  to  stay  at  Bald 
Hill,  but  should  go  with  them  to  New  York  and  finish  the 
visit  that  had  been  so  suddenly  broken  off.  In  New  York 
they  could  give  her  a  great  many  other  things  to  think 
about.  They  did  not  expect  to  drive  from  her  mind  the 
recollection  that  she  had  been  forced  to  discard  the  man 
she  truly  loved,  but  they  hoped  to  cramp  and  crowd  those 
recollections. 

These  ideas  of  the  Chiverleys  were  strongly  indorsed  by 
the  major.  The  great  desire  of  his  life  was  to  see  his 
daughter  happy.  He  even  preferred  to  have  her  happy 
than  to  have  her  with  him.  He  believed  she  was  much 
more  likely  to  be  happy  in  New  York  than  at  Bald  Hill, 
and  he  urged  her  to  go  with  her  friends.  He  had  other 
reasons  for  Ardis'  continuance  of  her  visit  to  the  Chiv- 
erleys than  those  he  gave  her.  He  mourned  deeply  this 
breaking  off  of  the  match  which  he  had  had  in  his  heart,  and 
he  could  mourn  better  if  she  were  away.  Now,  although 
she  could  not  be  said  to  be  cheerful,  she  neither  spoke  of 
the  storm  through  which  she  had  passed,  nor  did  she  allow 
its  effects  to  appear  upon  her,  and  so  long  as  she  pre- 
served this  demeanor  he  could  do  no  less  than  to  observe 
one  equally  as  unperturbed;  and  this  did  not  suit  the 
major.  When  anything  was  the  matter  with  him  he  liked 
to  show  it.  An  honest  exhibition  of  his  grief  did  him 
good. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  persuade  Ardis  at  this  time  that  the 
metropolis  was  a  better  place  for  her  than  herVirginia  home. 
She  was  too  young,  she  said  to  herself,  to  allow  this  great 
unhappiness  to  overshadow  all  that  part  of  her  life  which 
was  to  come.  And  if  it  were  right  to  do  a  thing,  it  must 
also  be  right  to  endeavor  to  cease  to  regret  the  doing  of  it. 
She  would  go  away  for  a  time,  and  then  she  would  come 
back  to  her  father  the  same  cheerful,  earnest  daughter, 


374  ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 

the  same  enthusiastic  worker  at  her  art,  and  the  same 
cheerful  manager  of  her  household  that  she  had  been  the 
spring  before.  She  might  fin-d  that  she  had  been  too 
much  hurt  to  do  all  this,  but  she  resolved  to  try,  and  she 
had  great  faith  in  herself. 

Thus  it  was  that  Ardis  and  the  Chiverleys  started  for 
New  York  on  the-  day  before  the  two  travelling  compan- 
ions, Messrs.  Surrey  and  Prouter,  reached  Bolton.  The 
first  of  these  continued  on  his  northern  journey;  while 
Prouter  repaired  to  his  home  at  the  Quantrills'  enlivened 
by  a  new  idea.  He  would  talk  over  his  affairs  with  Miss 
Airpenny.  Perhaps  that  very  sensible  and  practical  old 
frump  might  like  to  undertake  the  management  of  a  milk 
route.  He  considered  it  a  great  piece  of  stupidity  in 
himself  that  he  had  not  sooner  thought  of  this. 

As  soon  as  Major  Claverden  had  been  left  to  himself, 
General  Tredner  having  gone  away  some  time  before,  he 
sent  for  Dr.  Lester  to  come  and  make  him  a  protracted 
visit.  And  now,  day  after  day,  these  two  sat  over  their 
books,  their  newspapers,  and  their  backgammon;  and 
night  after  night  they  smoked  their  pipes  before  the  wood 
fire  in  the  great  library  fire-Dlace;  and  the  major  talked 
and  the  doctor  listened. 

"  A  better  man  than  Roger  Dunworth,"  the  major  said, 
not  once  but  often,  "  could  not  have  been  found  for  Ardis. 
I  think  you  will  admit  that,  sir.  Everybody  will  admit 
that." 

Here  the  doctor  would  remove  his  pipe  from  his  lips 
and  bow  his  head  affirmatively. 

"He  is  a  Virginian;  he  is  a  neighbor;  his  father  was 
my  friend,  and  his  grandfather  was  a  friend  of  my  father. 
I  have  looked  upon  him,  sir,  as  one  \vho  was  born  to  be 
the  husband  of  my  daughter.  As  a  man,  what  more  could 
be  desired?  Noble  to  look  upon,  with  the  soul  of  his 


ARD1S   CLAVP:RDEiV.  375 

fathers  in  a  strong  and  handsome  body ;  and,  in  character, 
just  the  man  I  should  have  chosen;  brave,  trust  worthy, 
honorable,  and  far  beyond  the  young  men  of  this  day  and 
region  in  these  qualities  which  bring  success  and  prosperity. 
I  tell  you,  sir,  it  is  too  bad!  It  is  too  bad!  And  what 
makes  it  worse,  sir,  what  makes  it  crushing  to  me,  is  that 
there  is  not  another  man  whom  I  have  ever  known,  or 
whom  I  have  ever  seen,  who  is  suitable  or  worthy  to  be 
the  husband  of  my  daughter.  In  other  parts  of  the 
country  there  may  be  such  men,  but  they  are  not  Vir- 
ginians, they  are  not  my  neighbors,  and  I  do  not  wish  to 
consider  them.  Can  you  tell  me,  doctor,  of  a  man  in  this 
part  of  the  country,  in  all  the  circle  of  our  acquaintance, 
in  whose  hands  you  would  advise  me  to  lay  the  hand  of 
my  daughter,  and  say  to  him :  '  Take  her '  ?  " 

At  such  words  as  these  the  doctor  would  look  into  the 
fire  and  harden  his  face,  but  he  could  not  harden  it  so 
hard  that  the  major  would  not  lean  over,  and  putting  his 
hand  on  his  shoulder,  say: 

"  I  see  that  you  sympathize  with  me,  good  old  friend. 
I  can  see  that  plainly  enough." 

"  '  Good  old  friend ' !  "  the  doctor  would  sometimes  re- 
peat to  himself.  And  at  this  period  he  was  a  younger 
man  than  the  major  had  been  when  he  married  his  wife. 

In  abouf  ten  days  from  the  time  he  left  Atlanta,  Roger 
Dunworth  returned  to  his  home,  much  to  the  relief  of 
Messrs.  Parch  ester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean,  who  were  be- 
ginning to  be  a  good  deal  discouraged  by  the  apparently 
indefinite  absence  of  their  chief.  Roger  came  home  be- 
cause that  was  the  right  thing  for  him  to  do,  and  because 
there  was  no  longer  any  reason  why  he  should  stay  away. 
He  had  left  his  home  before  because  it  was  absolutely 
impossible  for  him  to  remain  in  a  place  where  he  could 
see  the  woman,  his  love  for  whom  had  grown  into  an  all- 


376  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

absorbing  and  overpowering  passion,  actually  loving  an- 
other man,  and  that  man  Surrey. 

But  now  he  knew  that  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind 
between  Surrey  and  Ardis.  There  was  nothing  between 
Ardis  and  himself.  His  place  in  life  was  now  upon  his 
farm  with  his  crops,  his  cattle,  and  his  horses ;  his  Par- 
chesters,  his  Skitts,  and  his  Cruppledeans.  And  to  these 
he  went. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  377 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

ONE  morning,  after  a  cold  night  in  which  the  roadway 
had  been  frozen  into  ridges  and  lumps,  Dr.  Lester 
walked  over  from  Bald  Hill  to  his  house  to  get  a  book 
which  he  wanted,  and  to  see  if  anything  had  happened  to 
his  belongings.  Instead  of  finding  the  place  quiet  and 
deserted,  as  he  expected,  he  was  surprised  to  see  smoke 
curling  from  the  chimney,  and  as  he  approached  nearer  to 
hear  some  one  moving  within. 

He  hastened  to  the  door,  which  he  found  locked  as  he 
had  left  it,  and  when  he  had  somewhat  nervously  thrust  in 
his  key  and  opened  it,  he  beheld  within  his  friend  Bonetti 
comfortably  seated  in  an  arm-chair  before  a  fire  with  an- 
other chair  by  his  side. 

The  philosophizer  arose  and  extended  his  hand.  "  How 
d'ye  do,  doctor  ?  "  he  said.  "  I'm  right  glad  to  see  you 
back  again.  I  heard  you'd  got  home,  but  I  couldn't  get 
up  here  to  see  you ;  the  walkin'  was  too  powerful  sticky." 

"  How  did  you  get  in?  "  asked  the  doctor. 

"  Easy  enough,"  said  Bonetti.  "  I  knew  that  back  win- 
dow wasn't  fastened,  for  it  never  is ;  at  least  the  fastenings 
don't  amount  to  anything.  Then,  as  I  reckoned  you'd  be 
back  before  long,  I  just  made  up  a  fire  and  waited.  I  saw 
you  comin'  and  I  put  this  chair  here  for  you.  Sit  down 
and  warm  yourself." 

The  doctor  did  not  look  very  well  satisfied  at  having 
his  home  invaded  in  this  way.  "  You  might  have  waited 
a  long  time,  Bonnet,"  he  said.  "  I  am  now  staying  at 
Bald  Hill,  and  merely  happened  to  come  here  this  morn- 


378  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

ing.  I  am  going  back  presently,  before  the  road  begins 
to  thaw." 

"  But  sit  down  first,"  said  Bonetti,  "  and  tell  me  what 
has  happened.  I'm  just  ranklin'  to  know  how  things 
have  turned  out.  What  I've  heard  I  don't  understand. 
Miss  Ardis  has  come  home  and  gone  away  again,  and 
Roger  Dunworth,  .1  hear,  hasn't  come  at  all.  What's  the 
meanin'  of  that  ?  " 

The  doctor  did  not  sit  down,  but  stood  gazing  at  his 
companion  with  an  unusual  severity  of  expression.  "  Bon- 
net," said  he,  "  there  is  one  thing  I  should  like  to  ask  you. 
In  what  way  did  that  young  Englishman,  Prouter,  come  to 
know  that  Miss  Claverden  was  at  Atlanta  ?  There  was 
no  reason  why  those  two  men  should  have  supposed  that 
she  was  in  that  city  if  they  had  not  been  told  of  it,  and 
told,  too,  of  the  very  hotel  at  which  she  and  the  rest  of  the 
party  intended  to  stop.  Now,  Bonnet,  as  far  as  I  know, 
nobody  in  this  part  of  the  country  but  you  knew  our  ad- 
dress. We  were  very  careful  to  keep  it  private." 

"  Which  was  right,  perfectly  right,"  said  Bonetti,  leaning 
forward  and  extending  his  hands  toward  the  fire,  "  but  you 
can  be  certain  of  one  thing:  I  didn't  tell  them  she  was 
there.  I  never  saw  Surrey  at  all,  and  didn't  know  he 
went  down  there.  What  the  mischief  did  he  go  down 
there  for?  Has  he  been  making  more  trouble?  I  wish 
I  had  broken  his  neck." 

"  Instead  of  that,  I  am  afraid,  Bonnet,  that  you  have 
broken  your  word.  I  presume  from  what  you  say  that 
you  did  know  Prouter  was  going  down  there ;  and,  co'nse- 
quently,  that  you  told  him  where  to  go." 

"  Now,  look  here,  doctor,"  said  Bonetti,  "  you  are  get- 
ting rather  hard  upon  a  man.  I  say,  as  I  did  before,  that 
I  never  told  anybody  where  Miss  Ardis  was.  If  I  said 
anything  to  Prouter  about  Atlanta,  it  was  merely  a  matter 


CLAVERDEN.  379 

of  business.  He  wanted  to  see  Mr.  Dunworth  on  a  mat- 
ter of  buyin'  and  sellin',  and  it  was  necessary  he  should 
know  where  he  was ;  so  if  I  said  anything  to  him  on  that 
subject  it  was  out-an'-out  a  matter  of  business,  and  had 
nothing  to  do  with  Miss  Ardis,  or  Surrey  either." 

"  Bonnet,"  said  the  doctor,  speaking  more  sternly  than 
the  other  had  ever  heard  him  speak,  "  you  knew  that  Miss 
Ardis  was  going  to  Roger  Dunworth,  and  that  wherever 
he  was  she  was;  and  you  deliberately  broke  your  word  to 
me,  and  told  Prouter.  I  suppose  he  told  Surrey,  for  they 
came  down  together,  and  there  has  been  great  trouble, 
and  a  duel  has  been  fought,  and  the  engagement  between 
Roger  Dunworth  and  Ardis  Claverden  has  been  broken 
off  finally.  And  you  are  at  the  bottom  of  it  all !  All  the 
grief,  the  desolation,  the  misery  which  has  fallen  upon  the 
Claverden  family  and  upon  Roger  Dunworth  has  been 
caused  by  you!  " 

"A  duel!"  exclaimed  Bonetti.  "That,  I  reckon,  was 
between  Dunworth  and  Surrey.  I  hope  Surrey  was  killed !  '* 

"  He  was  not,"  the  doctor  said  angrily.  "  And  is  that 
all  you  have  to  say  about  the  consequences  of  your  un- 
pardonable treachery  ?  " 

"  It  appears  to  me,"  said  Bonetti,  "  that  you  are  allowin' 
yourself  to  get  right  sharp  riled.  I  didn't  make  anybody 
fight  a  duel." 

"  You  are  the  cause  of  every  evil  thing  that  happened,'1 
said  the  doctor.  "  If  it  had  not  been  for  you  those  men 
would  not  have  gone  down  there,  and  at  this  moment 
Ardis  Claverden  would  have  been  a  happy  betrothed 
woman  in  her  father's  house.  Instead  of  that,  misery, 
misery,  misery!  " 

"  Upon  my  word,"  said  Bonetti,  "  this  is  a  little  bit  too 
much  for  me  to  tackle!  Feelin'  as  you  once  did  in  that 
direction—and  with  you  when  that  sort  of  thing  comes 


380  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

once  it  stays  always — I  don't  see  why  you  trouble  yourself 
so  much  that  that  match  is  broken  off!  Even  if  you  can't 
get  a  girl  yourself,  it's  a  comfort  to  know  no  one  else  has 
got  her." 

"Bonnet!"  cried  the  doctor,  "now  you  have  twice 
broken  your  word  to  me,  for  you  vowed  you  would  never 
mention  that  subject  again.  At  the  bottom  of  every  feel- 
ing that  I  have  or  ever  had  toward  Ardis  Claverden  is  the 
strongest  desire  for  her  happiness ;  and  all  that  I  have 
done  has  been  done  hoping  to  make  her  happy.  A  mar- 
riage with  Roger  Dunworth  was  the  only  thing  in  the 
world  which  could  have  made  her  truly  happy,  and  this 
would  have  been  brought  about  but  for  your  infernal 
treachery.  Bonnet,  from  this  moment  you  are  no  friend 
of  mine!  " 

And  with  flashing  eyes  the  doctor  stepped  to  a  shelf  to 
get  the  book  he  had  come  for. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Bonetti,  turning  toward  him,  "  never  in 
my  life  did  I  see  you  in  such  a  temper!  And  it  appears 
to  me  you  are  not  showing  good  judgment.  Now,  a  friend 
with  some  sense  in  him  that  you  can  tackle  to  or  have 
him  tackle  to  you  whenever  there's  need  for  it  is  not  to 
be  got  every  day.  And  if  he  runs  a  little  short  in  this 
thing  or  that  thing,  that  doesn't  prove  that  he  hasn't  got 
a  pretty  good  stock  on  hand  of  what  you'd  be  likely  to 
want  some  time  or  other,  if  not  just  this  minute.  So  it's 
my  advice  to  you  to  think  over  that  matter  a  little.  A 
friend's  a  friend,  and  a  man  ought  to  be  mighty  careful 
about  lettin'  'em  slide.  If  you  were  to  stick  to  that  notion 
it  would  be  as  hard  on  me  as  it  would  be  on  you.  Why? 
one  of  the  things  I  came  up  here  to-day  to  speak  to  you 
about  was  to  ask  you  what  you  had  done  with  your  horse. 
You  might  as  well  have  let  me  have  the  use  of  him  all  the 
time  you  were  away,  and,  for  that  matter,  nowj  for  if 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  381 

you  are  stayin'  at  Bald  Hill  you'll  not  be  likely  to  need 
him.  There's  plenty  of  horses  there." 

To  these  words  Dr.  Lester  had,  apparently,  paid  no  at- 
tention, but  had  busied  himself  in  boring  a  hole  in  the 
lower  sash  of  his  back  window,  into  which  he  had  driven 
a  screw  so  that  the  window  could  not  be  opened  from  the 
outside.  When  he  had  finished  this  job  he  turned  to 
Bonetti  and  said :  "  I  am  now  going  back  to  Bald  Hill, 
and  shall  shut  up  this  house." 

And  stepping  to  the  fire,  he  pushed  together  the  burnt 
remains  of  the  small  sticks  of  which  it  had  been  made, 
and  covered  them  with  ashes.  Bonetti  silently  watched 
these  movements  of  the  doctor,  and  when  he  went  to  the 
door  he  followed  him.  The  two  stepped  out,  and  the 
door  was  locked  behind  them. 

The  doctor  strode  away  toward  Bald  Hill  as  rapidly  as 
the  condition  of  the  roads  would  allow ;  and  as  Borietti's 
way  home  was  in  the  same  direction,  he  followed.  But 
the  doctor's  long  legs  carried  him  on  at  a  rate  which  it 
was  almost  impossible  for  Bonetti  to  maintain;  and 
although  several  times  he  tried  to  speak  to  the  doctor,  he 
was  obliged  to  fall  back  before  he  could  finish  his  remark. 
Dr.  Lester  paid  no  attention  whatever  to  his  companion ; 
and  when  he  reached  a  spot  where  he  could  make  an  ad- 
vantageous short  cut  over  a  long,  sloping,  pasture  field, 
he  climbed  the  roadside  fence  and  made  his  way  across 
the  field. 

Bonetti  for  a  moment  hesitated,  for  this  dttour  would 
take  him  out  of  his  way,  but  he  wished  very  much  to 
speak  to  the  doctor,  and  so  climbed  the  fence  and  fol- 
lowed him.  The  surface  of  the  half-dead  turf  was  rather 
rough,  but  it  made  better  footway  than  the  road,  and 
Bonetti  wa,s  able  to  break  into  a  little  trot,  and  thus  to 
overtake  the  doctor. 


382  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  Look  here,"  said  he,  running  by  the  side  of  the  other, 
"this  sort  of  thing  ain't  goin'  to  pay.  I  don't  say  any- 
thing about  what  has  riled  you.  A  man  has  got  a  right 
to  be  riled  if  he  wants  to  be,  and  very  often  it  does  him 
good.  If  you  want  to  blaze  out  against  me  for  what  you 
say  I  have  done,  bla'e  away!  I  don't  mind.  You've  got 
a  right  to  do  it,  and  I  won't  hinder.  But  this  cuttin'  loose 
altogether  is  a  different  kind  of  thing.  It  won't  do  for 
you,  and  it  won't  do  for  me.  If  you  would  just  reason 
on  that  point  you'd  see  it  for  yourself.  What's  done  is 
done,  and  the  right  thing  to  do  now  is  to  begin  all  over 
again.  If  you  can  get  any  good  out  of  me,  and  I  can  get 
any  good  out  of  you,  all  we  get  is  clear  gain.  And  what's 
the  sense  in  throwin'  it  away?  To  cut  loose  like  this 
don't  stand  to  reason  and  it  isn't  Christian.  It's  a  settin' 
a  bad  example  to  the  whole  neighborhood." 

At  this  point  the  doctor  climbed  another  fence,  and 
kept  on  his  way  without  making  any  answer  to  Bonetti's 
appeals.  The  latter  still  followed,  speaking  whenever  he 
got  a  chance  until  they  had  really  reached  the  Bald  Hilj 
house,  when  the  two  separated,  Bonetti  going  round  to 
the  back,  and  the  doctor  keeping  on  to  the  front  door. 

Bonetti  was  very  much  cast  down.  Few  things  could 
be  so  injurious  to  his  happiness  and  his  general  well-being 
as  a  breach  with  Dr.  Lester.  To  this  fellow-philosophizer 
he  had  been  in  the  habit,  for  years,  of  going,  not  very 
much  for  advice,  but  for  all  manner  of  assistance  and 
comfort.  And  although  he  did  not  always  get  what  he 
asked  for,  the  average  result  was  very  favorable. 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Bonetti,  as  with  his  hands  in  his 
pockets  he  walked  round  the  back  of  the  house  toward 
the  barns,  "  that  I'd  about  as  lief  lose  my  back  teeth  as 
split  with  the  doctor.  Confound  that  black-hearted 
scoundrel  Surrey!  He's  always  makin'  trouble  between 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  383 

friends.  I  wish  I  had  thrown  him  into  the  bottomless 
pit  of  the  Ridgeby  Caves!  How  d'ye,  Uncle  Shad?  You 
don't  find  much  to  do  in  these  days,  do  you  ?  The  winter 
seems  to  hang  on." 

"Not  much  to  do!  "  said  the  old  negro,  letting  his  axe 
rest  on  the  log  he  was  cutting.  "  Why,  Mistah  Bonnet, 
dar's  on'y  free  times  in  de  whole  cohse  ob  de  yeah  dat 
dere  ain't  no  wuck  to  do ;  an'  dem's  eatin'  time,  sleepin' 
time,  an'  chu'ch  time." 

Bonetti  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  It  ain't  church  time 
now,  Uncle  Shad,  and  you  needn't  preacji.  So  your  Miss 
Ardis  has  gone  off  again,  has  she  ?  " 

"  Yaas,  sah,"  said  the  old  man.  "  She's  done  gone  off, 
an'  it  'pears  like  to  we  all  as  if  nobody  lived  at  Bald  Hill/' 

"  There's  no  sense  in  that !  "  said  Bonetti.  "  The  major 
is  here,  all  the  same,  and  Miss  Ardis  is  in  the  habit  of 
goin'  away  every  winter." 

"  Dat's  so,  Mistah  Bonnet,"  said  Uncle  Shad,  "  but  dis 
time  is  pow'ful  dif  rent  from  any  udder  time.  Eb'ry  udder 
time  she  say  she  go  on  one  day,  an'  she  say  she  come 
back  on  anudder  day,  an'  on  dat  udder  day  back  she 
come,  shuh  as  clock  strikin'.  But  now  I  reckon  she 
nebber  come  back  no  mo'.  We  all  'spected  a  weddin' 
heah,  wid  Mistah  Dunworf,  but  dat's  done  smash  up.  We's 
come  to  de  'elusion  dat  Miss  Ardis'll  mahry  some  gemman 
up  norf,  an'  send  for  de  major  to  come  lib  wid  her." 

"  Humph !  "  said  Bonetti.  "  You  colored  people  do 
too  much  thinkin'.  It  injures  your  brains,  and  you  ought 
to  stop  it." 

"  Don'  know  'bout  dat,"  said  Uncle  Shad  reflectively. 
"  Mos'  ob  our  brains  hab  got  purty  hard  shells,  an'  dey 
ain't  likely  to  split  wid  de  thinkin'  we  all  got  to  do. 
An'  you  know,  Mistah  Bonnet,  we  all's  'bliged  to  think 
'bout  gittin'  mahr'ed." 


384  ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN. 

"Obliged!"  said  Bonetti  with  a  sneer.  "It  would  be 
better  for  you  and  everybody  else  if  you  would  let  that 
sort  of  thing  alone,  and  stick  to  your  work/' 

"  Bress  your  soul,  Mistah  Bonnet,"  said  Uncle  Shad, 
"  I  reckon  dat  ef  de  white  folks  listen  to  what  we  all  say 
dey'd  sometimes  do  better.  Now,  dar's  Miss  Bonnet.  If 
she  listened  to  we  all  she'd  gone  an'  mahr'ed  some  kind 
o'  man  who'd  split  wood  fer  her,  an'  tote  it  too  when  de 
snow's  on  de  groun',  an'  gib  her  meat  more'n  two  or  free 
times  a  week  an'  send  her  da'ters  to  school  when  dey  was 
growed  up  enough.  But  thinkin'  ain't  no  good  now,  an' 
she's  got  to  go  'long  an'  do  her  own  pickin'  an'  scratchin'." 

"  And  you'd  better  go  along  and  cut  your  wood,"  said 
Bonetti,  "  instead  of  standin'  there  and  talkin'  like  a  mush- 
head." 

"  Dat's  so,"  said  Uncle  Shad.  And  with  a  broad  grin 
he  whanged  his  axe  into  the  log. 

Bonetti  walked  away  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"  This  ought  to  have  been  the  first  of  April,"  he  muttered, 
"  for  it  is  certainly  Fools'  Day!  " 

Then  he  passed  by  the  farm  buildings  and  servants' 
houses,  went  down  the  hill,  and  made  his  way  across  the 
fields  to  his  home. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  385 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

IT  was  quite  natural  that  the  Chiverleys  should  have 
been  disappointed  at  being  obliged  to  give  up  their 
proposed  sketching  tour  in  the  South.  But  it  was  quite 
as  natural,  considering  that  they  were  the  Chiverleys,  that, 
once  again  established  in  their  loved  studio,  they  should 
say  to  each  other  a  dozen  times  a  day  how  much  better  it 
was  at  this  season  of  the  year  to  be  at  home  and  at  work 
than  to  be  wandering  about  in  the  South  making  sketches. 

They  had  made  many  studies  of  Southern  scenery,  and 
while  Mrs.  Chiverley  set  herself  to  work  to  finish  the  little 
picture  on  which  she  had  been  engaged  at  the  time  of 
their  sudden  departure  from  home,  her  husband  got  out 
a  large,  new  canvas,  and  with  hearty  enthusiasm  began  a 
picture  portraying  the  scenery  of  Northern  Georgia  as  it 
had  never  been  portrayed  before. 

Ardis,  too,  set  up  her  easel.  She  had  brought  her 
painting  outfit  with  her,  and  proposed  going  earnestly  to 
work,  with  Mr.  Chiverley  as  instructor  in  color  and  manip- 
ulation. There  was  nothing  drooping  or  stricken  in  the 
appearance  of  this  young  lady.  She  had  deliberately  re- 
solved that  her  life  was  not  to  be  overshadowed  by  what 
had  happened,  and  whenever  there  was  an  opportunity  to 
step  into  warmth  and  brightness  she  took  that  step.  She 
was  not  trying  to  appear  to  others  that  she  was  unstricken ; 
she  was  resolutely  convincing  herself  that  this  thing  being 
over  she  was  the  same  brave,  independent,  earnest  woman 
that  she  had  been  before. 
25 


386  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Mrs.  Chiverley  could  not  entirely  sympathize  with  this 
state  of  mind.  A  great  affliction — and  she  knew  Ardis 
had  been  greatly  afflicted — called  for  a  certain  amount  of 
consequent  sobriety.  One  might  dance,  but  it  must  not 
be  jigs.  Now,  Ardis  liked  jigs. 

"  My  dear  child,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  why 
shouldn't  I  take  part  in  the  tableaux  of  the  homeopathic 
patronesses?  Nobody  has  died  and  we  are  not  wearing 
mourning." 

And  in  the  tableaux  she  took  part. 

"There  is  something  under  all  this,"  thought  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley. But,  whatever  was  under,  that  which  was  above 
was  most  charming  and  captivating  to  man,  woman,  and 
child. 

Easter  came  early  this  year,  and  in  the  revival  of  social 
festivities  Ardis  was  quite  willing  to  take  an  animated  part. 
Her  aunt  was  now  in  New  York  and  anxious  to  witness  the 
triumph  of  her  niece  in  fashionable  life ;  and  although 
Ardis  would  not  leave  the  Chiverleys  for  her  aunt's  hotel, 
she  went  with  that  lady  to  balls,  receptions,  germans,  and 
private  theatricals ;  and  whenever  she  went  her  success 
was  great.  To  her  beauty  and  her  bright  intelligence  was 
added  a  certain  dash  of  manner,  born  of  the  independent 
spirit  which  lay  at  the  base  of  her  being  which  carried  all 
before  it,  women  as  well  as  men.  Her  aunt  was  very 
proud  and  very  hopeful. 

"What  she  must  do,"  she  thought,  "is  to  go  with  me  to 
Europe.  There  are  personages  of  high  degree  who  come 
over  here,  but  the  better  ones  remain  at  home." 

On  a  certain  gay  occasion  Ardis  met  with  Mr.  Egbert 
Dalrymple.  The  moment  this  young  man's  eyes  fell  upon 
her  he  stalked  across  the  room  toward  her.  Ardis  was 
earnestly  engaged  in  conversation  with  a  gentleman,  but 
Dalrymple  drew  up  a  chair,  and  injected  so  much  of  his 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  387 

emotional  being  into  a  few  opening  remarks  that  the  other 
man  departed  as  if  he  had  been  the  intruder. 

This  young  man  now  appeared  more  interesting  to 
Ardis  than  he  had  been  in  Virginia.  There  he  was  a  bore ; 
here  his  oddities  threw  him  into  an  amusing  relief.  As 
for  Dalrymple  himself,  he  glowed.  When  not  actually 
with  Ardis  he  was  near  her ;  his  large  eyes  ever  on  her. 
In  the  course  of  the  evening  she  waltzed  with  him,  and 
when  that  dance  was  over,  and  he  had  been  assured  that 
he  had  no  chance  for  another,  the  young  man  abruptly 
left  the  house  and  telegraphed  to  his  sister: 

"  No  longer  in  the  outer  courts  of  Heaven,  but  in  its 
inmost  shining  halls." 

"  He  has  met  that  Claverden  girl  and  of  course  he  is 
on  his  knees  before  her!  "  said  Miss  Dalrymple,  the  next 
morning,  as  she  threw  the  telegram  into  the  fire.  "  Heaven, 
indeed!  He  will  find  it  quite  the  opposite!  " 

The  Chiverleys  talked  a  great  deal  about  Ardis.  "  It  is 
not  correct,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley  one  morning, 
leaning  back  in  his  chair  to  fix  a  critical  gaze  upon  a  com- 
bination of  color  which  he  was  working  into  the  trunk  of 
a  tree,  "  to  say  that  her  memory  must  linger.  In  my  ex- 
perience of  life,  stretching  over  a  period  not  necessary  to 
recall,  I  have  found  that  memories  don't  linger.  We  pass 
through  stages  of  action  and  feeling,  and  we  begin  again. 
Ardis  will  begin  again." 

"  You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself  to  talk  in  that 
way,"  said  his  wife.  "  How  many  stages  did  you  pass 
through,  I  should  like  to  know,  before  you  entered  your 
present  one?  And  how  many  more  do  you  expect  to 
enter,  should  you  get  through  with  this?" 

"  By  '  this '  I  suppose  you  mean  our  wedded  life,"  said 
Mr.  Chiverley,  putting  in  some  touches  of  gray  to  simulate 
moss,  "  which  is,  as  you  ought  to  know,  one  all-absorbing 


388  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

stage.  It  began  when  our  affections  first  came  of  age, 
and  will  continue  until  there  is  nothing  left  of  them. 
This  is  very  different  from  that.  That  is  broken  off, 
snapped  short,  done  with.  And  at  her  age  there  is  the 
certainty  that  she  will  begin  again." 

"  What  you  say  is  pure  assumption,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  You  may  think  so,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley,  "  but 
if  you  would  trust  to  the  judgment  of  your  only  husband 
you  would  do  well.  What  he  says  may  appear  improb- 
able at  the  moment,  but  as  time  rolls  on  the  correctness 
of  his  conclusions  becomes  so  unmistakably  obvious  that 
you  imagine  you  always  thought  that  way  yourself." 

"  I  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  But  he  never  hesitates  to  seek  the  aid  of  a  collateral 
intelligence,  and  therefore  would  be  very  much  obliged 
to  you,  madam,  if  you  would  take  a  look  at  this  tree  and 
tell  him  if  it  resembles,  in  any  way,  those  massive  trunks 
we  saw  in  Northern  Georgia." 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  would  call  that  picture  if  I  were 
you  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  after  she  had  gazed  at  it  a  few 
moments. 

"I  wish  I  did,"  said  her  husband,  turning  quickly 
toward  her. 

"  I  would  call  it :  '  The  Seven  Ages  of  Trees.'  There  is 
the  infant  tree ;  and  near  by,  the  sapling  school-boy  with 
shining,  morning  face ;  and  so  they  go  on,  including  the 
fat  justice  over  there,  until  they  reach  the  second  child- 
ishness of  this  aged  trunk,  inanely  decorating  itself  with 
Virginia  creeper." 

"  A  capital  idea!  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Chiverley,  "  capital ! 
But  we  must  not  allow  our  fancies  to  interfere  with  earnest 
purpose.  This  is  a  scene  on  the  Upper  Mississippi." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  sighed.  Earnest  purpose  seemed  to  do 
so  little  toward  selling  pictures.  At  present  the  state  of 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  389 

their  "  permanent  gallery,"  as  Mr.  Chiverley  sometimes 
called  his  studio,  began  to  weigh  upon  the  mind  of  his 
wife.  There  were  periods,  coming  round  in  tolerably 
regular  cycles,  when  her  mind  was  a  good  deal  weighed 
upon  in  this  way. 

The  addition  of  Ardis  to  the  studio  family  in  no  way 
increased  the  pressure  on  Mrs.  Chiverley.  In  fact,  it 
lightened  it.  On  this  second  visit  Ardis,  as  a  sister  artist, 
had  insisted  upon  becoming  one  of  the  family  and  paying 
her  share  of  the  expenses ;  and  she  paid,  besides,  at  regu- 
lar rates,  for  the  tuition  received  from  tyEr.  Chiverley.  But 
in  order  to  make  the  financial  affairs  of  the  little  party 
perfectly  satisfactory,  it  was  necessary  that  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Chiverley  should  also  pay  their  share  of  the  expenses, 
and  at  this  time  there  was  reason  for  doubt  in  regard  to 
the  power  of  the  worthy  pair  to  accomplish  this. 

Where  the  picture  bought  by  ex-Governor  Upton  had 
gone  Mrs.  Chiverley  did  not  know,  for  it  had  arrived  at  Bald 
Hill  securely  boxed  and  addressed  to  Ardis,  who,  of  course, 
had  been  very  careful  not  to  have  it  opened  during  the  stay 
of  the  Chiverleys  in  that  house ;  but  where  the  money  had 
gone  which  paid  for  the  picture  she  knew  very  well.  And, 
more  than  that,  she  knew  that  it  was  all  gone. 

Every  day  at  twelve  o'clock  Mr.  Chiverley  promptly 
ceased  from  his  labors,  and  went  out  to  take  a  brisk  walk 
until  one,  which  was  the  luncheon  hour.  It  happened  dur- 
ing one  of  these  absences  that  a  middle-aged  gentleman 
came  into  the  studio.  He  came  because  he  had  recently 
discovered  that  this  was  a  studio  which  he  had  never  vis- 
ited, and  it  would  have  lain  hard  upon  his  conscience  to 
know  of  a  studio  in  the  city  and  to  be  ignorant  of  what 
was  in  it. 

The  effect  produced  upon  this  gentleman  was  very 
much  like  the  effect  produced  upon  other  gentlemen  who 


390  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

visited  this  studio.  In  many  of  the  pictures  there  was 
something  which  at  first  sight  was  attractive,  but  a  care- 
ful examination  almost  always  revealed  something  else 
which  was  very  disappointing.  Thus  the  paintings  were 
seldom  condemned  as  a  whole,  but  after  a  visitor  had 
made  the  round  of  the  room,  it  was  quite  the  usual  thing 
for  him  to  go  away  without  making  any  reference  to  a 
financial  transaction. 

Ardis  and  Mrs.  Chiverley,  each  at  their  easels,  occa- 
sionally glanced  at  this  gentleman,  who  had  accepted  the 
invitation  of  the  latter  to  look  about  for  himself.  Neither 
of  them  had  any  hope,  but  each  had  a  feeble  desire  to 
see  if  he  looked  longer  at  one  picture  than  at  another. 
Presently  he  stopped  before  Mr.  Chiverley's  recently  fin- 
ished canvas.  He  stood  there  for  some  time,,  occasionally 
stepping  a  little  back  in  order  to  get  a  better  view,  and 
then  coming  closer  again.  Presently  he  turned  to  Mrs. 
Chiverley. 

"  Madam,"  said  he,  "  can  you  tell  me  where  the  scene 
of  this  picture  is  laid?  It  reminds  me  somewhat  of  the 
North  and  somewhat  of  the  South,  and  I  am  not  sure 
that  it  does  not  contain  suggestions  of  the  East  and  the 
West." 

"  Yes,"  thought  Ardis  at  her  easel,  "  and  of  the  North- 
east, and  the  Sou'-sou'west,  and  all  the  other  points  of  the 
compass." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  left  her  seat  and  approached  the  visi- 
tor. She  was  a  little  piqued  at  his  remark, 

"  Some  pictures  have  a  meaning,"  she  said,  "  which  is 
not  apparent  to  every  one  at  first  sight." 

"  You  are  correct,  madam,"  said  the  visitor. 

"This  painting,  for  instance,"  continued  Mrs.  Chiver- 
ley, "represents  the  seven  ages  of  trees."  And  then, 
with  as  much  readiness  as  Jacques  detailed  the  seven  ages 


ARD1S  CLAVERDEN.  391 

of  man  to  the  duke,  she  pointed  out  in  the  trees  of  the 
picture  the  counterparts  of  these  ages. 

"Madam,"  said  the  visitor,  "you  delight  me.  I  admit 
that  I  utterly  failed  to  see  the  point  of  this  picture;  but 
now  that  I  am  aware  of  its  meaning  I  understand  its  ap- 
parent incongruities.  Meaning  despises  locality." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley  earnestly.  "  Mean- 
ing is  above  everything." 

"  Madam/'  said  the  gentleman,  his  eyes  still  fixed  upon 
the  canvas,  "  as  a  student  of  Shakespeare,  as  well  as  a 
collector,  in  a  small  way,  of  works  of  art,  I  desire  to  have 
this  picture,  provided  its  price  is  not  beyond  my  means." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  gazed  at  him  in  an  uncertain  way.  She 
did  not  seem  to  take  in  the  import  of  his  remark. 

From  her  easel  Ardis  now  named  the  price  which  Mr. 
Chiverley  had  fixed  upon  for  the  picture.  He  never  fin- 
ished a  painting  without  stating  very  emphatically  what 
he  intended  to  ask  for  it. 

"That  is  reasonable,"  said  the  gentleman,  "and  you 
may  consider  the  picture  mine."  And  he  handed  Mrs. 
Chiverley  his  card.  Then,  imbued  with  a  new  inter- 
est in  the  studio,  he  walked  about  looking  at  others  of  the 
pictures. 

"  This  little  study,"  said  he,  "  seems  to  me  as  if  it  ought 
to  have  a  significance,  but  I  declare  I  am  again  at 
fault." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  it  ought  to  have  a  signifi- 
cance. In  fact  there  is  a  significance  connected  with  it. 
I  could  easily  tell  you  what  it  is,  but  if  you  were  after- 
ward to  look  at  the  picture  you  would  see  no  such  mean- 
ing in  it." 

"  Perhaps  this  is  one  of  your  husband's  earlier  works," 
said  the  gentleman,  "  in  which  he  was  not  able  to  express 
his  inspirations." 


392  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  It  is  not  one  of  my  husband's  works,"  said  Mrs.  Chiv- 
erley;  "it  is  mine." 

The  visitor  now  glanced  at  the  clock,  which  was  ticking 
away  more  cheerfully  than  it  had  ticked  for  a  long  time, 
and  said  that  he  must  go,  but  that  he  would  come  again 
to-morrow  and  look  at  more  of  the  paintings ;  and  proba- 
bly would  bring  a  friend  with  him. 

"  The  best  time  to  come,"  said  Ardis,  speaking  quickly, 
"  is  between  twelve  and  one.  At  that  hour  there  is  the 
best  light  on  the  pictures  in  this  studio." 

The  moment  that  the  gentleman  had  departed  Ardis 
flew  to  Mrs.  Chiverley  and  threw  her  arms  round  her 
neck.  "Now,  my  dearest,"  she  exclaimed,  "you  know 
your  vocation  in  life.  You  must  put  meanings  to  Mr. 
Chiverley's  pictures." 

When  the  head  of  the  house  returned  he  was,  of  course, 
delighted  to  find  that  his  painting  had  been  sold. 

"That  is  the  way  with  us!  "  he  cried.  "  We  have  spasms 
of  prosperity.  One  of  our  works  is  bought,  and  up  we 
go.  Let  us  so  live  that  while  we  are  up  we  shall  not  re- 
member that  we  have  ever  been  down.  And  now,  my 
dear,  if  you  will  give  me  the  card  of  that  exceptional  ap- 
preciator  of  high  art,  I  will  write  his  bill  and  receipt  in- 
stantly, so  that  if  he  should  again  happen  to  come  while 
I  am  out  there  may  be  nothing  in  the  way  of  an  immedi- 
ate settlement." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  stood  by  him  as  he  sat  at  the  desk. 
"  You  must  call  the  picture,"  she  said,  "  '  The  Seven  Ages 
of  Trees.' " 

"  Nonsense ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Chiverley,  turning  sud- 
denly and  gazing  with  astonishment  at  his  wife.  "  That 
will  do  for  a  bit  of  pleasantry,  but  the  title  of  the  picture  is 
'  A  Scene  on  the  Upper  Mississippi.'  You  don't  want  to 
deceive  the  man,  do  you?  " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  393 

"  No,  I  do  not,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley,  "  and  that  is  one 
reason  why  I  did  not  give  it  your  title.  It  is  a  capitally 
painted  picture,  and  as  a  woodland  '  Seven  Ages '  it  is 
simply  perfect.  That  was  what  it  was  sold  for;  and  for 
that,  and  nothing  else,  will  the  money  be  paid." 

Mr.  Chiverley  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  longer,  and 
then  bursting  into  a  laugh  he  returned  to  his  desk.  "  You 
have  touched  me  to  the  quick,"  he  said.  "  Money  has 
given  title  before,  and  it  shall  do  it  now.  There  is  the 
receipted  bill ! "  he  cried,  pushing  back  his  chair.  "  And 
now  I  shall  run  down  and  get  something  of  the  pop  variety 
to  add  to  our  luncheon.  We  ought  to  have  an  uncom- 
monly good  meal  to  celebrate  this  happy  anniversary. 
But,"  he  said,  stopping  for  a  moment,  "  perhaps  it  has  not 
been  a  year  since  we  sold  a  picture." 

"  Go  along,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley  with  a  laugh,  "  and  let 
the  pop  be  ginger  beer." 

The  impetuous,  affectionate,  and  earnest  admonition  of 
Ardis  went  straight  to  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Chiverley. 

"  Yes,  that  is  what  I  will  do,"  she  said,  when  the  two 
were  alone.  "  I  will  give  meanings  to  Mr.  Chiverley' s 
pictures.  They  have  everything  but  that,  and  if  I  can 
give  them  what  they  lack  I  am  sure  I  ought  to  do  it.  For 
instance,"  she  continued,  "look  at  that!  Mr.  Chiverley 
calls  it  a  study  of  two  women.  But  who  in  the  world  will 
care  for  it  if  it  is  looked  upon  simply  as  that?  They  are 
well  painted,  but  they  are  not  particularly  interesting 
women.  Now,  I  shall  call  it :  '  The  one  shall  be  taken  and 
the  other  left ; '  and  don't  you  see  an  interest  immediately 
begins  to  grow  up  about  it  ?  The  mind  of  the  observer  is 
set  to  work.  How  shall  one  of  them  be  taken?  By 
death.,  by  captor,  or  by  bridegroom?  And  which  one  shall 
be  taken?  And  why?  These  will  be  very  interesting 
points.  People  can  decide  as  they  please.  And  each  one 


394 


ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 


who  looks  at  it  will  infuse  a  different  subtlety  into  the 
picture." 

The  next  day,  at  the  hour  at  which  he  had  been  told 
that  there  was  the  best  light  on  the  pictures,  the  purchaser 
of  "  The  Seven  Ages  "  came  again,  bringing  with  him  two 
friends.  The  th::ee  went  around  the  studio  with  Mrs. 
Chiverley,  and  .looked  at  the  pictures  with  her  eyes. 

"  I  did  not  suppose,"  said  the  visitor  of  the  day  before, 
turning  to  his  friends,  "  that  we  had  among  us  an  artist  so 
capable  of  locking  up  in  an  apparently  ordinary  exterior 
such  lesson,  such  purports,  such  artistic  admixture  of  the 
simple  fact  and  the  basic  idea,  and  it  is  the  unobtrusive- 
ness  of  the  idea  which  gives  the  work  its  greatest  value." 

"  That  is  true,"  said  one  of  the  others.  "  It  is  a  bore 
to  have  motives  thrust  upon  your  attention.  Pictures 
with  those  protuberant  significations  annoy  me." 

"  Precisely,"  said  the  third  gentleman,  "  and  although 
true  art  should  always  have  a  meaning,  it  should  allow  us 
to  discover  that  meaning  for  ourselves.  To  evoke  mental 
action  in  the  beholder  is  one  of  the  noblest  objects  of  art." 

The  "  Seven  Ages  "  was  paid  for,  and  two  small  pic- 
tures which  had  been  the  subjects  of  remark  by  Mrs. 
Chiverley  were  bought. 

And  from  this  day  the  prosperity  of  the  Chiverleys  be- 
gan. They  never  grew  rich,  nor  did  the  name  of  the 
painter  ever  become  truly  famous ;  but  for  people  who 
liked  brains  in  a  picture  the  studio  became  a  resort,  and 
the  sale  of  a  painting  ceased  to  be  an  unusual  event. 

Mrs.  Chiverley  made  some  attempt  to  get  her  husband 
to  work  a  meaning  into  his  pictures  while  he  was  painting 
them,  but  in  this  she  did  not  succeed.  When  they  were 
finished  they  always  appeared  to  her  to  mean  something 
entirely  different  from  what  had  been  originally  proposed  ; 
and  she  was  forced  to  admit  to  herself  that  it  would  be 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  395 

better  to  let  him  go  on  in  his  own  way,  and  for  her  to  work 
in  the  purports  after  he  had  done  his  part.  It  was,  indeed, 
as  she  had  discovered  in  her  own  work,  a  very  difficult 
thing  to  work  up  a  picture  to  a  fixed  significance.  It  was 
ever  so  much  easier  to  adapt  the  significance  to  the  picture. 

Mr.  Chiverley  soon  learned  that  it  was  wise  to  allow  his 
wife  to  have  her  own  way  in  this  matter,  but  now  and 
then  he  rebelled.  When  she  had  worked  out  the  meaning 
of  a  painting  she  would  explain  it  to  him,  for  it  was  not  to 
be  expected  that  his  work  would  always  be  sold  in  his 
absence. 

"  Confound  it,  madam!  "  he  exclaimed  on  one  of  these 
occasions.  "  That  is  a  painting  of  the  salt  mines  of 
Thurgis;  and  you  call  it  'The  Patriarch's  Last  Break- 
fast! '  It  seems  to  me  that  is  going  a  little  too  far." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it!  "  replied  Mrs.  Chiverley.  "  We  only 
see  the  entrance  of  the  mines,  anyway,  and  that  will  do 
as  well  for  one  kind  of  hole  as  another.  And  who  will 
care  for  the  salt  mines  of  Thurgis?  As  for  that  old  man, 
sitting  on  a  rock  eating  his  simple  meal,  he  doesn't  look 
in  the  least  like  a  worker  in  the  mines ;  he  is  too  aged  and 
he  is  too  well-dressed.  His  pouch  and  his  staff  show  him 
to  be  a  traveller.  He  has  stopped  here  to  eat  his  morning 
meal;  and  he  little  dreams  that  those  two  figures  in  the 
middle  distance,  standing  by  the  notch  in  the  rocks  through 
which  he  must  pass,  are  waiting  to  murder  and  to  rob  him. 
The  knowledge  of  this  in  the  beholder  of  the  picture 
gives  an  intensity  of  interest  to  that  simple  meal." 

"  I  should  say  so !  "  cried  Mr.  Chiverley.  "  It  is  horrid ! 
I  never  painted  such  a  blood-chilling  subject  in  my  life. 
Those  men  are  peaceful  operatives  coming  to  their  work. 
No,  madam,  that  is  not  his  last  breakfast.  I  will  not  stand 
it!" 

"  Very  well,  then,"  said  Mrs.  Chiverley.    "  Let  us  call  it 


396  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

'  The  Wheel  of  Time/  That  dark  opening  is  really  the 
entrance  to  the  mines,  or  work-a-day  life.  That  old  man 
has  finished  his  labors.  He  comes  out;  he  is  no  longer  fit 
for  work ;  he  sits  down ;  he  takes  his  ease.  Yonder  are 
younger  men  coming  to  take  his  place.  And  so  it 
goes  on  forever.  The  wheel  of  time  revolves." 

"It  will  not  do,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley;  "too  gloomy. 
It  will  make  me  think  of  myself  hobbling  out  of  this  studio 
and  sitting  on  the  curbstone  eating  a  crust  of  bread." 

Mrs.  Chiverley  earnestly  regarded  the  picture  for  a  few 
moments.  "  If  that  does  not  suit  you,"  she  said,  "  suppose 
we  call  it  'Dawn  at  Eve.'  Those  figures  are  the  old 
man's  sons.  He  has  been  wandering  over  the  world  look- 
ing for  them.  He  considers  himself  near  the  end  of  his 
days ;  and  close  by  is  that  yawning  chasm  which  symbolize? 
to  him  the  grave  of  hope.  But  in  a  few  moments  his  sons 
will  reach  him ;  new  life  will  dawn  upon  him — dawn  at 
eve!  That  title  will  suit  the  picture  very  well  because 
there  is  a  tinge  of  sunset  to  the  right,  while  on  the  other 
side  there  is  a  decided  early-morning  sky." 

"Very  good,"  said  Mr.  Chiverley.  "Let  the  salt  mines 
of  Thurgis  dawn!  But  I  must  beg  of  you,  my  dear,  that 
you  will  try  to  be  on  hand  when  the  subject  of  this  picture 
is  explained.  I  am  afraid  I  might  get  things  mixed  and 
call  it  '  The  Evening  Breakfast, '  or  *  The  Salt  of  Hope.'  " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  397 


CHAPTER   XL. 

NOT  very  long  after  Mr.  Egbert  Dalrymple  had  waltzed 
with  Ardis  and  telegraphed  to  his  sister,  he  called 
at  the  studio.  He  did  not  come  to  buy  pictures;  he  ig- 
nored pictures.  It  would  have  been  difficult  for  an  ordi- 
nary observer  to  decide  from  his  conduct  what  he  had 
come  for.  After  a  nod  to  Mrs.  Chiverley — her  husband 
was  not  at  home — and  a  silent  hand-shake  with  Ardis,  who 
was  at  work  at  her  easel,  he  walked  up  and  down  the 
room,  his  eyes  fixed  upon  what  Mrs.  Chiverley  afterward 
called  "the  middle  future."  He  disregarded  invitations 
to  take  a  seat,  and  when  Mrs.  Chiverley,  thinking  it  her 
duty  as  mistress  of  the  house,  to  endeavor  to  interest 
every  visitor,  asked  him  what  he  thought  of  Mr.  Chiverley's 
last  picture,  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  turned  his  eyes 
toward  her,  and  in  a  low  and  hollow  tone  inquired :  "  Is 
he  then  dead?" 

This  remark,  notwithstanding  its  lugubrious  nature, 
made  both  the  ladies  laugh ;  and  Mis.  Chiverley  apologized 
for  her  incorrect  expression.  Mr.  Dalrymple  made  no 
further  remark,  but  continued  his  solemn  perambulations, 
ever  and  anon  glancing  at  Mrs.  Chiverley  as  if  he  wished 
that  she  had  painted  her  last  picture  years  upon  years 
agone.  This  good  lady  knew  very  well  what  was  the 
matter  with  him ;  and  at  last  she  felt  she  could  no  longer 
endure  his  striding  and  his  gazing. 

Jumping  up,  she  went  over  to  Ardis  and  whispered  to 
her:  "  Shall  I  go  out?" 


398  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

Ardis  nodded,  and  putting  on  her  hat,  Mrs.  Chiverley 
went  out. 

The  sound  of  her  steps  on  the  stairs  had  not  died  away 
when  Egbert  Dalrymple  approached  Ardis  and  sank  upon 
his  knees  beside  her  easel.  His  feet  were  close  together 
with  the  toes  turned  up  beneath  them,  and  he  sat  well 
back  upon  his  heels.  His  hands  were  clasped  before  him ; 
his  body  was  erect;  and  his  yearning  countenance  was 
raised  toward  Ardis. 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  give  him  a  dab  of  red  paint  on 
his  nose  from  the  brush  she  held  in  her  hand,  for  it  was 
difficult  to  take  Egbert  Dalrymple  seriously.  But  this 
impulse,  of  course,  was  but  momentary. 

"  I  need  not  speak,"  he  murmured.  "  You  know  my 
soul.  Your  soul.  It  is  yours,  as  I  am.  Mind,  soul,  heart, 
body.  I  am  yours.  Only  that — yours." 

"If  you  were  really  mine,"  said  Ardis,  "the  first  thing 
I  should  tell  you  to  do  would  be  to  get  up ;  for  if  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Chiverley  come  back  and  find  you  in  that  medi- 
aeval position  they  will  be  sure  to  go  instantly  to  work  and 
sketch  you." 

"  Here  is  my  place,"  he  said.  "  At  your  feet  always, 
through  the  forever.  I  am  yours;  only  yours;  else  I  exist 
not." 

"  Mr.  Dalrymple,"  said  Ardis,  "  I  thought  you  wanted 
to  say  something  like  this,  and  I  am  very  glad  you  have 
had  the  opportunity,  because,  for  my  part,  I  wish  to  say 
that  I  absolutely  and  positively  decline  to  accept  you  as 
mine.  It  will  be  of  no  use  at  all  for  you  to  allude  to  this 
subject  again.  And  so  please  get  up." 

The  young  man  did  not  move  from  his  position.  "  Your 
words  make  no  difference,"  he  said.  "  I  am  yours,  that 
is  all  I  am.  Tell  the  air  you  will  not  breathe  it ;  tell  me 
I  am  not  yours ;  it  is  one." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  399 

By  a  most  remarkable  concatenation  of  circumstances 
it  happened  that  at  that  moment  it  was  just  one  o'clock,  and 
as  the  clock  asserted  this  fact  in  a  clear,  distinct  tone,  Mr. 
Chiverley,  with  his  accustomed  loyalty  to  luncheon  time, 
opened  the*  door. 

At  the  first  sound  of  his  coming  Egbert  Dalrymple  rose 
to  his  feet  and  turned  a  lowering  countenance  upon  the 
in-comer.  Mr.  Chiverley  looked  surprised  when  he  saw 
him,  but  instantly  approached  with  cordial  salutation. 

Dalrymple,  however,  took  no  notice  of  his  outstretched 
hand,  but  standing  for  a  moment  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  floor,  he  ejaculated  "So!"  and  without  the  least 
pretense  of  leave-taking,  he  strode  away.  Mr.  Chiverley 
burst  out  laughing,  and  Ardis  could  not  help  joining  him. 
"  What  was  it  doing?  "  he  asked. 

"  Proposing  and  getting  declined,"  said  Ardis. 

"  I  don't  mind  luncheon  being  delayed,"  said  Mrs. 
Chiverley,  who  came  in  presently,  "  if  Ardis  is  sure  that 
she  has  given  that  stalking  glare  his  quietus." 

"  I  have  done  my  best,"  said  Ardis,  "  but  I  am  by  no 
means  certain  that  I  have  succeeded." 

Her  doubts  were  well  founded,  for  in  two  days  a  long 
letter  arrived  from  Mr.  Dalrymple,  in  which  he  stated  that 
as  it  was  impossible  to  be  exempt  from  inane  intrusion  in 
the  place  where  Miss  Claverden  was  now  staying,  he  was 
forced  to  picture  his  soul  on  paper.  And  this  he  did  to 
the  extent  of  eight  pages.  But  in  all  his  picturing  ap- 
peared no  allusion  whatever  to  what  Ardis  had  said  to 
him.  It  was  his  custom  to  ignore  that  which  was  dis- 
tasteful. 

Ardis  returned  his  letter,  after  reading  a  page  or  two  of 
it,  and  briefly  wrote  that  as  he  and  his  family  were  her 
neighbors  at  her  native  place,  she  wished  always  to  remain 
on  good  terms  with  them ;  but  any  connection  stronger 


400  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

than  that  of  friendly  neighbors  was  simply  impossible,  and 
she  requested  him  to  write  her  no  more  letters,  and  never 
again  to  return  to  the  subject  which  he  had  broached  at 
the  studio. 

In  a  few  days  more  she  received  another  letter,  which 
she  sent  back  unopened;  and  it  was  not  long  after  this 
that  Mr.  Dalrymple  called  upon  her.  Fortunately  she 
was  not  at  home. 

"  It  will  be  absolutely  necessary  to  have  him  shot," 
said  Mr.  Chiverley,  afterward.  "  This  sort  of  persecution 
will  not  do  at  all." 

"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  to  shoot  him,"  said  Ardis. 
"  I  shall  not  open  his  letters,  and  if  he  presents  himself 
again  to  me,  I  can  effectually  dispose  of  him.  Now  that 
I  know  what  he  really  is,  I  shall  show  him  what  I  can  be." 

Spring  advanced ;  the  weather  became  more  and  more 
delightful ;  the  festivities  of  society  gradually  disappeared, 
the  people  in  the  rural  districts  began  to  advertise 
admirable  country  residences  eight  minutes'  walk  from  the 
railroad  station;  and  Major  Claverden  wrote  from  Bald 
Hill  that  in  that  part  of  the  world  the  joyful  season  called 
by  him  the  Ardis-time  had  come. 

So  Ardis,  reversing  the  action  of  the  migratory  birds, 
prepared  to  fly  southward,  to  where  the  cool  breezes  from 
the  Blue  Ridge  blew  all  summer  over  the  hills  and  through 
the  valleys  of  her  native  county. 

The  Chiverleys,  of  course,  bewailed  her  going,  but  as 
they  were  to  visit  Bald  Hill  in  the  summer,  they  bore  up 
bravely.  Her  aunt  showed  that  she  had  been  greatly  dis- 
appointed in  the  result  of  Ardis'  stay  in  New  York. 

"  It  was  all  on  account  of  your  living  in  that  studio," 
she  said.  "  If  you  had  been  here  with  me  I  believe  you 
would  have  had  half  a  dozen  proposals  during  the  past  sea- 
son ;  but  of  course  nobody  was  going  to  call  on  you  there." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  401 

Ardis  laughed.  "We  had  visits,"  she  said,  "from  a 
great  many  pleasant  people.  And  more  than  that,  I  re- 
ceived in  that  studio  a  proposal  of  marriage." 

"  From  whom?  "  asked  her  aunt,  quickly. 

"  From  a  gentleman  who  lives  in  the  Bald  Hill  neigh- 
borhood but  has  spent  part  of  the  winter  in  this  city." 

"  Humph !  "  said  her  aunt.  "  You  can  get  plenty  of  that 
kind  without  coming  here  and  going  into  society.  Of 
course  you  rejected  him?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Ardis. 

"Next  winter,"  said  her  aunt,  "you  must  positively 
come  and  stay  with  me,  and  if  you  want  to  study  painting 
you  can  go  to  your  studio  in  the  mornings.  Then  we  shall 
see  what  we  shall  see." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ardis,  "  that  is  what  we  shall  see." 

If  the  rising  of  the  sun;  if  the  birds  and  flowers  of  spring; 
if  the  glories  of  the  summer;  if  the  full  fruition  of  the 
vines  and  the  golden  wealth  of  the  fields  had  all  come 
in  one  day  to  Major  Claverden,  they  would  have  been 
paled,  overshadowed,  and  rendered  unnoticeable  by  the 
coming  of  his  daughter.  And  no  bird  nor  flower,  sun  nor 
season,  was  gayer  or  more  beautiful  or  brighter  than  was 
Ardis. 

"  She  has  got  over  it !  entirely  over  it !  It  is  easy  to  see 
that!  "  said  the  major  to  Dr.  Lester  as,  late  on  the  evening 
of  his  daughter's  arrival,  they  sat  in  the  library  with  their 
pipes. 

"Yes,"  said  the  doctor,  "I  think  she  has." 

Dr.  Lester's  mental  being  was  in  a  tremble.  Ten  times 
a  minute,  when  he  trembled  the  most,  did  he  tell  himself 
that  there  was  no  earthly  reason  nor  justification  for  any 
feeling  of  this  kind.  But  still  his  mental  being  continued 
to  tremble. 

"  Of  course  I  am  glad,"  the  major  went  on  to  say,  "very 
26 


4o2  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

glad  to  see  that  my  child  has  passed  through  this  terrible 
ordeal  without  scar  or  scorch ;  but  I  cannot  help  feeling  a 
little  disappointment  at  the  same  time.  If  there  had  been 
the  least  sign  in  her  manner  that  she  remembered  what 
had  been,  I  should  have  felt  a  slight  encouragement.  But 
she  asked  about  Roger  Dunworth  precisely  as  she  would 
have  inquired  about  one  of  those  young  Englishmen  he  is 
teaching  to  be  farmers." 

"  Yes,  I  noticed  that,"  said  the  doctor. 

"  I  did  not  believe,"  said  the  major,  "that  I  could  allow 
myself  to  drop  into  such  a  doleful  train  of  thought  on  this 
happy  day.  But  it  is  no  wonder  my  spirits  should  be 
downcast  when  I  consider  that,  leaving  out  Roger,  there 
is  not  one  man  in  the  whole  circle  of  my  acquaintance  to 
whom  I  would  wish  to  give  my  daughter's  hand." 

The  doctor  sighed  and  nodded.  For  some  moments 
the  two  sat  in  silence.  Then  said  the  major: 

"  Is  your  pipe  out?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Then  suppose  we  go  to  bed,"  remarked  his  host. 

Life  at  Bald  Hill  now  went  on  very  much  as  it  had  gone 
in  the  past  summer.  Ardis  painted.,  rode,  and  visited. 
People  came  and  went.  And  the  country  grew  beautiful, 
as  it  knew  well  how  to  grow. 

Roger  Dunworth  did  not  come  to  Bald  Hill.  He  in- 
tended to  do  so,  but  he  would  wait  awhile.  He  knew  ex- 
actly how  Ardis  would  receive  him  when  he  came.  She 
would  be  to  him  the  same  kindly,  charming  hostess  that 
she  was  to  everybody.  In  her  demeanor  there  would  be 
nothing  to  suggest  the  past.  For  himself  he  knew  that 
his  first  meeting  with  her  would  be  a  heart-breaking 
plunge.  He  would  have  to  take  it ;  but  not  yet. 

A  very  faithful  visitor  to  Bald  Hill  was  Tom  Prouter. 
This  enterprising  young  man,  having  disposed  of  his  milk 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  403 

business  in  a  fragmentary  manner— that  is  to  say,  by  sell- 
ing some  of  the  cows  to  Mr.  Dunworth,  some  to  a 
butcher,  the  only  good  horse  to  Miss  Airpenny,  and  the 
wagons  and  utensils  to  anybody  who  would  take  them  at 
any  price — had,  with  all  the  enthusiastic  earnestness  of  his 
nature,  taken  up  the  life  of  a  vine  grower.  He  had  found 
a  man  who  was  desirous  of  laying  down  such  a  life,  and 
had  bought  of  him  a  vineyard  well  planted  but  not  yet  in 
bearing,  in  the  midst  of  which  stood  a  little  house  of  four 
rooms. 

Prouter  was  charmed  to  find  everything  thus  ready  to 
his  hand.  There  was  a  living  room — parlor,  library,  study, 
or  whatever  one  might  choose  to  call  it — in  which  he  could 
have  his  meals  and  enjoy  himself  after  his  labors.  Back 
of  this  room  was  a  little  kitchen,  and  above  were  two 
chambers,  one  for  himself  and  one  for  a  friend.  His 
servants — as  many  as  he  might  need — could  sleep  in  their 
own  cabins. 

He  now  launched  himself  boisterously  into  his  new 
career.  He  began  by  having  the  little  house  painted, 
inside  and  out,  and  spared  no  money  in  furnishing  it 
handsomely  and  comfortably;  he  put  up  a  barn  and 
other  outbuildings,  which  somewhat  dwarfed  the  house; 
and  even  planned  for  the  planting  of  a  grove  of  trees  and 
wooded  avenue  leading  down  to  the  main  road.  But  hav- 
ing reflected  that  tall  trees  would  shade  his  vines,  he  gave 
up  this  scheme. 

"  This  is  a  business,"  he  said  to  Miss  Airpenny,  who 
had  ridden  over  to  look  at  his  place,  "  into  which  a  man 
can  put  all  the  energy  of  his  nature.  Now,  you  couldn't 
put  all  the  energy  of  your  nature  into  milk,  could  you?" 

"  No,  I  couldn't,"  said  Miss  Airpenny.  "It's  not  a  bad 
little  house.  What  will  you  sell  it  for?  " 

"Sell  it!  "  cried  Tom  Prouter,  his  face  flushing  its  red- 


404  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

dest.  "Do  you  suppose  I  would  sell  it?  You  might  as 
well  ask  a  man  to  sell  his  wife  or  his  children  as  to  sell  his 
home  to  which  he  intends  to  devote  the  thoughts  and 
labors  of  his  life,  and  where  he  expects  to  peacefully  end 
his  days !  A  home  is  a  home,  and  not  a  thing*  for  bargain 
and  sale!" 

"Really!"  remarked  Miss  Airpenny.  "And  now  let 
me  see  what  sort  of  barn  you  have  built." 

As  soon  as  the  frost  was  out  of  the  ground  Tom  Prouter 
arose  at  daybreak,  and  worked  with  his  own  hands  in  his 
vineyard.  This  continued  for  about  a  week,  and  then  he 
found  it  would  be  better  economy  to  employ  some  labor- 
ers and  give  most  of  his  time  to  overseeing  them. 

All  now  went  on  very  well  until  Miss  Ardis  Claverden 
returned  to  Bald  Hill ;  and  then  Tom  Prouter  suddenly 
remembered  that  his  bachelor  establishment  might  place 
him  in  a  false  light.  Without  sufficient  reflection  he  had 
made  everything  look  too  permanent.  He  very  much  ob- 
jected to  being  looked  upon  as  a  permanent  bachelor,  and 
he  bitterly  told  himself  that  he  ought  to  have  thought  of 
that  before.  He  desired  a  reputation  for  energy  and  in- 
dustry, but  it  must  be  that  sort  of  energy  and  industry 
which  belonged  to  the  head  of  a  family. 

However,  if  he  had  made  a  mistake  he  must  do  his  best 
to  correct  it.  On  his  first  visit  to  Miss  Claverden — and 
this  was  the  day  after  she  arrived — he  made  it  very  plain 
to  her  that  his  present  place  of  residence  and  endeavor 
was  nothing  more  than  a  training  school.  Of  course  such 
a  house  as  he  had  would  not  do  at  all  for  a  life-long  home, 
such  as  he  proposed  to  establish,  but  it  very  well  answered 
his  purpose  while  he  was  fitting  himself  for  the  manage- 
ment of  an  estate  in  this  part  of  the  country. 

"  It's  a  great  deal  better,  you  know,"  said  he,  "  to  be 
well  grounded  in  that  sort  of  thing — vines,  land,  stock, 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  405 

and  such  like— before  you  go  into  it  on  a  big  scale,  with 
a  house  with  a  lot  of  rooms  in  it,  and  all  that.  Isn't  it 
now,  Miss  Claverden?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  the  lady.  "  I  think  your  plan  is  a 
very  good  one.  Many  men,  now  rich,  have  begun  life, 
and  even  brought  up  families  in  houses  no  larger  than 
yours." 

"By  George!  "  said  Prouter  to  himself  as  he  got  into 
his  dog-cart  to  drive  away,  "that's  a  royal  girl!  I  really 
believe  that  if  she  out-and-out  loved  a  man  she  would  be 
willing  to  go  with  him  and  live  in  a  house  no  bigger  than 
mine!  And  mine  isn't  a  bad  house,  either!  If  I  build 
on  one  side  of  it  a  drawing-room  and  a  dining-room,  and 
a  library  with  a  bay-window  in  it,  and  some  good-sized 
bedrooms  up-stairs,  and  perhaps  a  third  story  for  boxes, 
servants,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  it  would  be  no  end  of  a 
good  house.  And  then  I  should  certainly  plant  the  grove 
and  the  avenue  of  trees,  even  if  they  did  shade  a  few 
vines.  But  don't  you  hurry,  Tom,  my  boy.  Be  careful 
about  mistakes.  Steady  is  the  word!  " 

Steady  was  truly  the  word  most  applicable  to  Tom 
Prouter's  visits  to  Bald  Hill.  Nearly  every  day  found 
him  there.  There  was  never  any  lack  of  excuse  for  go- 
ing, if  excuse  were  needed.  His  interest  in  vine-growing 
urged  him  to  frequent  counsel  with  Major  Claverden,  who 
was  always  glad  to  talk  with  anybody  upon  this  great  sub- 
ject. 

This  year  the  old  gentleman  was  a  little  despondent,  for 
the  wine  of  Bald  Hill  seemed  slipping  away  into  the  very 
distant  future.  The  vines  which  he  had  expected  to  yield 
this  year  the  much-desired  juice  were  in  a  bad  condition, 
and  would  probably  have  to  be  grubbed  up,  the  fate 
which  so  many  of  his  experimental  vines  had  already  met. 
Grubbing  up  was  easy  enough,  but  the  time  required  for 


406  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

the  new  vines  to  reach  their  period  of  rich  maturity  dis- 
couraged the  major.  He  had  almost  determined  not  to 
make  any  more  plantings. 

Prouter  was  full  of  hope.  He  was  eager  to  plant  all 
sorts  of  things.  It  was  his  planting-time  of  life,  and  his 
cheery  enthusiasm  had  a  good  effect  upon  the  major,  who 
was  always  glad  to  see  him. 

After  each  of  these  conferences  Prouter  was  sure  to 
make  a  stop  at  the  studio,  or  the  house,  or  under  some 
spreading  tree  on  the  lawn,  or  in  whatever  other  place  he 
might  be  able  to  find  Miss  Claverden.  There  his  tongue 
would  wag,  his  face  flush,  and  his  eyes  sparkle  for  as  long 
a  time  as  he  deemed  proper  for  a  man  who  had  declared 
"  steady  "  to  be  the  word.  He  did  not  wish  the  lady  to 
think  that  he  was  an  idle  fellow  with  plenty  of  time  on  his 
hands.  Such  men  were  not  well  thought  of  in  that  com- 
munity; and  he  seldom  took  leave  without  making  some 
reference  to  the  necessity  of  hurrying  home  to  attend  to 
his  affairs. 

One  morning  Mr.  Prouter,  on  inquiring  for  Miss  Claver- 
den, was  informed  by  a  servant  that  she  was  in  the  library. 
He  proceeded  toward  this  familiar  room,  but  before  he 
reached  the  door  he  discovered — what  the  maid  had  not 
told  him — that  the  lady  was  not  alone. 

Prouter  instinctively  stopped.  He  did  not  wish  to  in- 
trude upon  Miss  Claverden,  but  he  also  greatly  objected 
to  going  away  without  seeing  her.  He  was  not  a  man  who 
listened  by  partly-opened  doors,  but  still,  if  the  person 
inside  should  be  Dr.  Lester  or  any  other  intimate  friend 
of  the  family,  he  would  not  hesitate  to  go  into  the  room. 
It  was  a  gentleman's  voice  he  heard,  but  he  did  not  rec- 
ognize it ;  and  he  was  on  the  point  of  turning  away  when 
his  attention  was  arrested  by  the  high  tones  of  Miss  Cla- 
verden's  reply: 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  407 

"  Mr.  Dalrymple,"  she  said,  "  I  told  you  never  again  to 
mention  that  subject  to  me.  Since  you  pay  no  regard 
whatever  to  my  wishes  I  am  forced  to  ask  you  to  leave 
me.  And  unless  you  come  as  a  friend  of  the  family,  and 
without  any  intention  of  offering  yourself  to  me,  I  desire 
that  you  shall  not  visit  this  house  again." 

In  almost  any  other  instance  the  impropriety  of  listen- 
ing any  longer  would  have  been  very  plain  to  Tom 
Prouter,  but  at  this  moment  he  was  too  much  agitated  to 
consider  propriety.  There  was  a  man  in  that  room  who 
was  insulting  Ardis  Claverden !  He  knew  now  who  he 
was ;  an  unspeakable  ass.  And  she  was  ordering  him  out 
of  the  house.  Perhaps  she  might  need  assistance ! 

Now  Mr.  Dalrymple  spoke.  "  Demand,"  he  said, 
speaking  clearly  and  smoothly,  "  that  I  become  a  blond. 
Ask  me  to  be  of  hoary  age ;  corpulent — decrepit.  I  can 
be  any  of  these  as  well  as  one  who  loves  you  not.  Yours 
now;  yours  always.  Words  matter  not;  time  changes  me 
not.  But,  as  you  desire,  I  go  now." 

The  stupendous  effrontery  of  these  remarks  made  the 
blood  boil  in  the  veins  of  Tom  Prouter.  His  English 
heart  of  oak  swelled  and  throbbed  within  him,  and  every 
one  of  his  vigorous  muscles  seemed  to  grow  tense  and 
hard.  Should  he  bound  into  the  room  and  dash  that  man 
to  the  floor?  Or  should  he  spring  upon  him  as  he  came 
out,  rush  him  to  the  door,  and  hurl  him  over  the  railing 
of  the  porch? 

But  Miss  Claverden  now  came  out  of  the  room,  her 
face  pale  and  her  step  quick ;  and  behind  her  followed 
Egbert  Dalrymple.  Prouter  sprang  to  her  side. 

"Shall  I  ki "  "Kill  him,"  he  was  going  to  say, 

but  changed  it  to  "kick  him  down  the  steps?  " 

Ardis  betrayed  no  surprise  at  Mr.  Prouter's  words,  nor 
at  his  apparent  knowledge  of  the  situation.  She  was  agi- 


4o8  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

tated  and  angry.  "Let  him  alone!"  she  said.  "It  is 
only  Mr.  Dalrymple !  He  is  going." 

Prouter  did  not  move,  but  his  eyes  flashed,  his  fists  were 
clinched,  and  his  sinewy  form  was  all  a-tingle  for  a  spring. 
Egbert  Dalrymple,  as  he  walked  deliberately  out  of  the 
library  and  toward  the  hall  door,  glanced  at  the  young 
Englishman  with  about  as  much  fear  and  as  much  interest 
as  if  he  had  been  a  badly  stuffed  tiger  in  a  furrier's  win- 
dow. Reaching  the  door  he  turned  and  bowed  to  Ardis ; 
and  then,  drawing  on  his  gloves  as  he  went,  he  descended 
the  steps  and  walked  over  the  lawn. 

It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and,  impelled  by  his  youth  and 
vigor  and  his  love  for  the  scent  of  foliage  and  herbage,  he 
had  come  afoot  across  the  fields.  As  he  walked  he 
stooped  and  picked  a  daisy.  He  looked  at  it  a  moment, 
raised  it  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it ;  then  he  looked  at  it  again. 

"  The  same  daisy,"  he  murmured.  After  which  he 
carefully  put  it  into  his  buttonhole,  and  glancing  down- 
ward at  it  murmured:  " The  same  daisy !  So!  Always 
the  same!  Ever  the  same!  " 

Then  with  easy  and  with  graceful  tread  he  passed 
on  over  the  soft  grass,  and  through  the  shaded  pathways 
of  the  woods,  inhaling  with  expanded  chest  the  fragrant 
air  already  touched  with  the  warmth  of  coming  summer. 

As  soon  as  Dalrymple  had  gone,  Ardis  walked  out  on 
the  broad  piazza  at  the  back  of  the  house,  and  Prouter 
accompanied  her. 

"  You  must  excuse  me,  Miss  Claverden,"  he  said.  "  You 
may  think  I  have  been  intruding,  but  they  told  me  you 
were  in  the  library;  and  when  I  reached  the  door  I  heard 
you  speaking  severely  to  that — thing,  and  I  didn't  know 
but " 

"Oh,  don't  mention  him,"  said  Ardis,  taking  a  seat. 
"He  has  gone  and  there  is  an  end  of  it!  Isn't  this  a 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  409 

lovely  day?  If  it  hadn't  been  necessary  to  send  my  mare 
to  be  shod  I  should  have  been  off  for  a  gallop  over  the 
fields." 

"  Oh,  that  needn't  stop  you !  "  cried  Prouter.  "  There's 
my  horse  at  the  front  in  the  dog-cart.  I  can  have  him 
out  of  the  shafts  and  your  saddle  on  him  in  no  time.  He 
has  never  been  ridden  by  a  lady,  but  I  wager  he  will  go 
finely.  And  if  I  may  ride  with  you,  any  mount  will  do 
for  me." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Ardis  with  a  smile,  "  but  I  think  we 
will  postpone  the  ride.  And  now  sit  down  and  tell  me 
how  you  get  on  with  your  meals.  Yesterday  you  said 
that  you  had  to  cook  your  breakfast  yourself." 

It  was  a  delightful  change,  she  thought,  after  the  scene 
she  had  just  passed  through,  to  sit  and  talk  to  an  abso- 
lutely unromantic  young  man  who  could  converse  without 
adoring  and  whose  mind  ran  upon  horses  and  vines  in- 
stead of  souls  and  futures.  The  excitement  which  her 
anger  had  caused  had  not  yet  died  away,  and  it  showed 
itself  in  the  brightened  vivacity  of  her  words  and  manner. 
To  Prouter  it  was  heavenly  to  talk  on  any  subject  to  this 
sparkling  angel. 

"  That  is  a  fact,"  he  said.  "  I  did  have  to  cook  my  own 
breakfast.  The  woman  who  has  been  coming  in  to  do 
that  sort  of  thing  was  such  a  beastly  cook  that  I  vowed, 
when  I  was  eating  my  dinner  the  night  before,  that  as  soon 
as  I  had  finished  I  would  drive  her  out  of  the  house ;  and 
the  moment  I  had  swallowed  the  last  mouthful  I  got  up 
and  did  it.  I  have  another  one  now,  though  I  fancy  she 
is  going  to  turn  out  worse  than  the  last.  But  I  have 
heard  of  a  negro  man  down  in  the  other  end  of  the 
county  who  has  been  in  the  navy.  Now,  if  you  can  get 
hold  of  a  fellow  who  has  been  in  the  navy,  he  can  almost 
always  cook.  And  he  can  make  himself  useful  to  you  in 


4io  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

other  ways,  too.  He  can  brush  your  trousers,  black  your 
boots,  and  do  all  that  sort  of  thing." 

"A  perfect  treasure  such  a  man  would  be!"  cried 
Ardis,  laughing  so  heartily  that  Prouter  joined  in  without 
in  the  least  seeing  any  cause  for  hilarity. 

"  But  I  don't  want  you  to  think,  Miss  Claverden,"  he 
cried,  "  that  I  am  intending  always  to  get  on  in  this  slip- 
shod fashion.  I  am  making  plans  in  my  mind  for  a  regu- 
lar corps  of  servants ;  and  I  don't  know  but  I  shall  import 
them  from  England.  They  are  thoroughly  trained  over 
there,  you  know — butlers,  cooks,  housemaids,  footmen, 
even  down  to  the  stable-boys.  Every  rascal  of  them 
knows  what  he  has  to  do,  and  goes  and  does  it." 

"  But  what  use  could  you  have  for  such  a  household, 
Mr.  Prouter?  "  exclaimed  Ardis.  "  You  would  be  obliged 
to  get  lodgings  for  them  in  the  neighborhood :  your  house 
would  not  hold  them." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  Miss  Claverden !  "  said  Prouter.  "  Do 
you  suppose  I  intend  always  to  live  in  a  little  house  like 
that?  I  am  making  plans  now  to  add  to  it;  to  build  up 
a  regular  mansion." 

"  Your  servants  will  need  a  very  good-sized  house," 
said  Ardis.  "  And  shall  you  continue  to  live  in  the  little 
part  of  it?" 

And  thus  the  talk  went  merrily  and  earnestly  on  until 
Prouter  declared  that  he  should  have  been  off  long  ago, 
and  tore  himself  away.  He  went  home,  skipping  over 
the  grass  and  forgetting  that  he  had  come  in  a  dog-cart. 
As  he  approached  his  vineyard  the  laborer  on  watch 
aroused  the  two  others,  who  were  comfortably  napping  in 
the  sun,  and  the  three  went  vigorously  to  work. 

"Boys,"  cried  Prouter,  striding  radiantly  into  their 
midst,  "  this  is  a  glorious  day,  and  I  am  going  to  give  you 
a  half-holiday!  and  here  is  fifty  cents  apiece  for  you. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  411 

But  hold  up!  Before  you  go,  one  of  you  must  run  over 
to  Bald  Hill  and  get  my  horse  and  dog-cart.  I  didn't 
come  back  by  the  road." 

"Reckon  he  done  sell  dat  little  farm  o'  his'n,"  said 
one  laborer  to  the  other,  as  they  gayly  walked  homeward. 
"  Don't  reckon  dar's  anything  in  dis  whole  worf  dat  make 
him  so  pow:ful  tickled  as  to  sell  his  place." 

"  Ef  he's  done  gone  an'  sol'  it,"  said  the  other,  "  I  reckon 
we  all  kin  wuck  at  de  nex'  thing  he  buys,  jus'  de  same!  " 

"  Dat's  so,  shuh !  "  was  the  reply. 

These  men  had  been  assistants  in  the  milk  business. 


4I2  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

IN  these  early  summer  days  this  world  was  a  very  happy 
world  to  Tom  Prouter.  It  had  always  presented  to 
him  a  gladsome  aspect,  though  sometimes  flecked  with 
spasmodic  streaks  of  business  or  social  perplexities,  but 
now  it  glowed  beneath  him  as  though  he  walked  upon  the 
upper  surface  of  a  sun-gilded  cloud. 

He  continued  to  make  frequent  visits  to  Bald  Hill, 
but  he  was  very  wary  and  prudent  about  them. 
"  Steady  "  was  still  the  word.  He  thought  he  had  been 
indiscreet  in  making  mention  of  the  house  he  intended  to 
build  and  of  the  servants  he  would  employ.  The  knowl- 
edge of  that  sort  of  thing  ought  to  dawn  upon  a  person 
gradually.  If  it  were  plumped  down  too  suddenly  it  would 
appear  to  have  a  design  in  it. 

Now,  Prouter  did  not  wish  that  Miss  Claverden  should 
imagine  that  he  had  any  designs  upon  her.  He  had  never 
been  so  cautious  in  his  life.  The  present,  strongest  de- 
sire of  his  nature  was  to  make  a  good  impression  upon  the 
lady  of  Bald  Hill.  He  endeavored  to  banish  from  his 
manner  and  deportment  all  signs  of  frivolity  and  fitfulness, 
and,  consequently,  he  sometimes  became  a  little  dull ;  but 
as  he  never  perceived  this  the  world  glowed  no  less 
brightly  beneath  him. 

In  order  that  the  neighborhood  might  not  come  to  too 
hasty  conclusions  in  regard  to  the  constant  intercourse 
which  he  kept  up  with  Bald  Hill,  he  also  made  visits  to 
others  of  his  friends ;  but  these  never  interfered  with  the 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  413 

regularity  of  his  dropping  in  on  the  major  and  his 
daughter. 

Sometimes  he  visited  his  old  friends  and  countrymen, 
the  Quantrills,  and  had  some  lively  talks  with  Miss  Air- 
penny,  with  whom  he  felt  under  no  manner  of  restraint, 
and  could  be  as  frivolous  and  fitful  as  he  pleased.  Occa- 
sionally he  stopped  and  had  a  smoke  and  chat  with  Dr. 
Lester;  and,  much  to  the  amusement  of  the  Cranton 
family,  paid  some  long  visits  to  Miss  Norma. 

Next  to  Bald  Hill  he  liked  best  to  visit  the  Dunworth 
farm ;  but  it  was  more  on  account  of  the  pleasure  he  re- 
ceived from  the  society  of  Messrs.  Parchester,  Skitt,  and 
Cruppledean  than  from  that  of  the  master  of  the  house. 
He  could  not  help  feeling  a  very  great  pity  for  Roger 
Dunworth,  and  as  he  well  knew  that  it  would  not  do  to 
exhibit  any  sentiment  of  this  sort,  his  efforts  at  repression 
resulted  in  a  certain  stiffness  which  was  very  unpleasant 
to  himself,  whatever  it  might  be  to  any  one  else. 

He  was  very  glad  to  be  able  to  assure  himself  that  until 
he  had  become  certain  that  the  engagement  between  Miss 
Claverden  and  Dunworth  was  positively  broken  off,  he 
had  never  thought  of  such  a  thing  as  going  in  on  his  own 
account.  This  approval  of  his  conscience  helped  to  make 
the  world  a  bright  one  to  Tom  Prouter,  and  even  the 
shadows  caused  by  his  pity  for  Dunworth  were  not  very 
dense,  nor  altogether  unpleasant. 

On  a  certain  bright  morning  Mr.  Prouter  sat  by  the  side 
of  Miss  Claverden  on  the  front  piazza  of  Bald  Hill.  She 
was  busily  engaged  upon  some  light  sewing,  and  he  had 
taken  a  seat  for  a  few  minutes  to  rest  himself.  As  Tom 
Prouter  had  never  before  been  heard  to  say  that  he  was 
tired,  it  was  indeed  well  that  there  happened  to  be  a  chair 
there,  in  order  that  this  primal  experience  of  fatigue  might 
be  relieved. 


414  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

It  was  not  very  long  before  Ardis  was  called  into  the 
house  and  begged  her  visitor  to  excuse  her.  As  she  left 
her  work  and  sewing  materials  on  the  chair,  Prouter  felt 
sure  that  she  would  soon  be  back  again ;  and  thrusting 
his  hands  into  his  pockets,  leaning  back  and  extending 
his  legs,  he  gave  himself  up  to  the  joy  of  existence. 
The  gently  rustling  trees,  the  rose-scented  air,  the  golden 
sunlight,  the  stretches  of  smooth  green,  the  blue  sky,  the 
softly  sailing  clouds,  and  the  momentarily  expected  return 
of  Ardis  made  him  feel  as  if  he  were  indeed  in  Paradise. 
Suddenly  he  sprang  to  his  feet.  His  eyes  glared,  the 
color  left  his  face;  and  he  exclaimed:  "The  devil!  " 

Yes,  the  devil  had  entered  into  Paradise.  On  the  high- 
road, plainly  visible  from  where  he  stood,  in  a  buggy 
slowly  driven  by  a  boy,  he  saw  Jack  Surrey. 

With  mouth  open  and  eyes  dilated  Prouter  stood,  and 
watched,  and  waited,  and  watched.  Gradually  the  buggy 
approached  the  Bald  Hill  gate.  It  reached  it.  It  did 
not  stop,  but  passed  on. 

Prouter  gave  a  little  gasp,  but  before  he  could  assure 
himself  that  he  felt  relieved  he  heard  Ardis  returning. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Mr.  Prouter?1'  she  ex- 
claimed as  she  came  out  on  the  porch.  "  You  look  as  if 
you  had  seen  a  ghost,  or  perhaps  snakes." 

The  young  man  was  now  glaring  steadfastly  in  an  oppo- 
site direction  from  the  road,  and  as  he  expected,  Ardis' 
gaze  followed  his.  He  continued  to  glare.  "  She  must 
not  look  around,"  he  thought,  "until  that  buggy  has 
passed  entirely  out  of  sight." 

"  What  in  the  world  is  it?  "  asked  Ardis,  now  becoming 
a  little  alarmed. 

"  Oh,  it's  nothing,  nothing,"  said  Prouter  quickly.  "  I 
am  subject  to  this  sort  of  thing— that  is  to  say,  I  never 
had  any  experience  of  this  kind  before — but  people  will 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  415 

have  certain  jumps  and  agitation  without  any  reason 
whatever." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  Ardis.  "  But  won't  you 
have  a  glass  of  wine?  " 

"  No,  no,  no,  thank  you  very  much,"  said  Prouter  hur- 
riedly. "  I  must  be  off  now.  I've  got  lots  of  things  to 
do  at  home.  I  ought  to  have  been  there  long  ago." 

And  taking  a  hasty  leave,  he  departed.  He  must  hurry 
away,  and  see  where  that  incarnate  fiend  had  gone  to. 

"  I  hope  the  poor  young  man  is  not  in  money  difficul- 
ties and  saw  the  sheriff  upon  the  road,"  thought  Ardis,  as 
she  resumed  her  seat.  "  Now  that  I  think  of  it,  he  was 
looking  so  desperately  the  other  way  that  he  must  have 
seen  something  on  the  road." 

This  morning  Mr.  Prouter  had  come  to  Bald  Hill  on 
foot,  and  as  soon  as  he  thought  himself  out  of  sight  of  the 
front  piazza  he  began  to  run  across  the  lawn  and  through 
the  orchard,  making  a  diagonal  course  toward  the  road  in 
order  that  he  might  catch  sight  of  the  buggy  and  the 
fiend,  and  see  where  they  were  going. 

"  It  may  be,"  he  thought,  as  he  ran,  "  that  he  intends  to 
drive  to  Richmond  on  this  road.  It  would  be  like  him  to 
do  that,  and  if  that  is  the  case,  the  faster  he  goes  the 
better!" 

Reaching  the  road  Prouter  vaulted  over  the  fence,  hur- 
ried onward,  and  soon  rounding  a  little  curve,  he  beheld 
the  buggy  about  half  a  mile  ahead  of  him.  He  was  now 
on  high  ground  whence  he  could  see  the  road,  or  por- 
tions of  it,  for  a  long  distance,  and  he  was  satisfied  that 
he  could  determine  whether  or  not  Surrey  was  going  to 
Richmond.  If  he  turned  to  the  right  at  Dr.  Southey's  he 
was  certainly  on  his  way  to  that  city,  which  was  only  fifty 
or  sixty  miles  distant. 

But  Surrey  did  not  take  the  road  to  Richmond.     Long 


41 6  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

before  he  reached  Dr.  Southey's  house  he  turned  to  the 
left,  and  drove  through  a  gate  at  the  roadside. 

"By  the  lord  Harry!  "  cried  Prouter,  with  such  a  start 
that  he  almost  sprang  from  the  ground.  "  He  is  going  to 
my  house!  " 

Tom  Prouter  now  ran  home  at  the  top  of  his  speed, 
vengeance  in  his -eye,  and  destruction  in  his  two  clinched 
fists.  The  buggy  had  a  long  start  of  him,  however,  and 
reached  the  little  house  some  minutes  before  his  arrival. 
Hurrying,  hot,  red  and  savage,  along  the  rough  lane  which 
was  to  become  a  stately  avenue,  Prouter  beheld  Surrey, 
cool  and  smiling,  standing  in  the  open  doorway  of  his 
house.  The  buggy  had  been  driven  away  to  the  back, 
and  on  the  porch  lay  two  large  valises. 

A  few  steps  from  the  house  Prouter  stopped  short. 
"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  he  cried.  "What  are 
you  doing  here?  " 

"  Doing?  "  said  Surrey,  a  slight  smile  showing  under  his 
heavy  moustache.  "  I  have  come  to  make  you  a  visit. 
Didn't  you  ask  me  to  do  so  the  last  time  you  saw  me?  " 

Prouter  swallowed  an  objuration  so  big  that  it  almost 
choked  him.  "  Ask  you?  "  he  gasped. 

"Certainly,"  said  Surrey,  "you  invited  me.  I  accepted, 
and  here  I  am.  But  come  in.  I  don't  like  to  see  you 
standing  outside  there." 

So  saying,  Surrey  walked  back  into  the  room,  and 
Prouter,  still  boiling,  accepted  the  invitation  to  enter  his 
own  house.  Surrey  took  off  his  hat,  seated  himself  in  an 
arm-chair  near  a  small  table,  and  looked  about  him. 

"  Neat  and  comfortable,"  he  remarked.  "  I  should  say 
this  sort  of  thing  would  suit  you  exactly." 

"  It  doesn't  suit  me,"  said  Prouter,  still  standing,  and 
with  his  hat  on.  "  The  house  is  a  makeshift,  and  doesn't 
suit  at  all.  And  what  is  more " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  417 

"Now  don't  proceed  to  say,"  interrupted  Surrey,  "that 
it  doesn't  suit  you  to  have  me  here,  because  that  would  be 
going  back  on  yourself,  which  is  a  thing  I  don't  expect  of 
you." 

Prouter  breathed  a  deep,  long,  rasping  breath.  "  What 
beastly  business  brought  you  here  anyway?  "  he  cried. 

"The  beastly  business  of  visiting  you,"  said  Surrey;  "  I 
told  you  that  before.  And  now  have  you  any  kind  of 
thing  that  a  man  can  drink?  I  am  thirsty." 

Prouter  glared  at  him  for  a  moment,  and  then  strode  to 
a  closet,  bringing  out  a  bottle  of  beer  and  a  tumbler,  which 
he  banged  down  on  the  table  by  Surrey.  The  latter 
pushed  back  the  fastening  of  the  patent  cork,  poured  out  a 
glass  of  beer,  and  drank  it  with  great  relish.  Then  having 
emptied  the  remaining  contents  of  the  bottle  into  the 
tumbler  he  took  a  cigar  from  his  pocket,  lighted  it,  and 
leaned  back  in  his  chair. 

"Now  this  is  what  I  call  enjoyable,"  he  said,  "make- 
shift, or  not." 

With  heaving  breath,  red  face,  and  dilated  nostrils 
Prouter  stood  and  stared  at  him  for  a  few  moments. 
"  Now  look  here,"  he  presently  exclaimed,  "  this  sort  of 
thing  will  not  work !  You  have  done  mischief  enough  in 
these  parts!  If  you  had  a  spark  of  manliness  in  you,  you 
wouldn't  stay  where  you  are  hated  by  everybody  from  the 
cradle  to  the  grave." 

Surrey  smiled,  and  Prouter  went  on.  "  You  are  always 
doing  the  most  devilish  things  just  at  the  time  they  ought 
not  to  be  done." 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  hear,"  said  Surrey,  "  at  what  times 
you  think  it  proper  to  do  devilish  things.  But  we  will 
discuss  that  later." 

"You  can't  deny  it,"  said  Prouter.  "You  come  in 
27 


41 8  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

when  everything  is  happiest,  and  make  a  hell  upon  earth! 
Here  everything  is  beginning  to  go  straight  again " 

"  Do  you  mean,"  interrupted  Surrey,  "  that  Miss  Claver- 
den  and  Dunworth  are  engaged  again  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't!"  cried  Prouter.  "That's  all  smashed, 
ruined,  done  with,  and  scattered  to  the  winds.  There  is 
no  possibility  of  their  ever  coming  together  again.  You 
have  totally  dashed  all  that  into  dust  and  flinders !  They 
are  no  more  to  each  other  than  if  they  had  never  met." 

"Then  what  do  you  mean  by  things  going  straight?" 
asked  Surrey. 

"That  is  none  of  your  business!"  cried  Prouter.  "I 
should  hate  to  be  a  man  always  prying  into  things  with 
which  he  has  no  concern." 

Surrey  looked  steadily  at  Prouter  for  a  moment,  and 
then  he  asked:  "  Are  you  courting  Miss  Claverden?  " 

"No,  I  am  not!  "  roared  Prouter.  "You  might  as  well 
expect  a  man  to  court  a  woman  at  her  husband's  funeral ! 
You  needn't  suppose  everybody  has  your  heathenish 
ideas  about  doing  things.  What  I  do,  or  intend  to  do, 
or  don't  intend  to  do,  are  my  own  affairs,  and  I  answer  no 
man  in  regard  to  them."  And  with  this  remark  he  stamped 
angrily  up  and  down  the  floor. 

Surrey  took  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  and  drank  the 
glass  of  beer  he  had  poured  out.  Then  he  leaned  for- 
ward, with  his  elbow  on  the  table,  and  addressed  the 
young  Englishman.  "Now,  Prouter,"  he  said,  "don't 
work  yourself  into  a  passion.  I  see  exactly  how  the 
ground  lies,  and  I  may  as  well  tell  you  at  once  that  if  any 
plan  you  have  made  shall  fail  you  shall  have  no  cause  to 
lay  the  blame  on  me.  So  you  need  give  yourself  no 
further  trouble  about  that." 

"  What  do  you  mean?  "  said  Prouter.  "  What  have  you 
got  to  do  with  my  plans?  " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  419 

"  From  the  way  you  have  been  talking,"  answered  Surrey, 
"  one  might  suppose  that  I  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with 
them.  But,  in  reality,  I  have  nothing.  I  did. not  come 
down  here  to  pay  attentions  to  Miss  Claverden.  In  fact, 
I  do  not  expect  to  see  her." 

"  Then  what  did  you  come  here  for?  "  asked  Prouter. 

"  I  like  the  country,  and  I  came  to  see  you.  Don't 
you  call  those  reasons  enough?  " 

Prouter  stood  silent  for  a  moment.  Then  he  walked  to 
the  closet  and  took  out  another  bottle  of  beer,  which  he 
put  down  before  Surrey.  After  which  he  thrust  his  hands 
into  his  pockets  and  looked  out  through  the  open  door- 
way. 

"  It  is  not  a  bad  country,"  he  said. 

Surrey  opened  the  bottle,  and  poured  out  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  beer;  and  then  Prouter  returned  to  the  closet 
and  got  out  another  glass,  which  he  filled  for  himself,  and 
drank.  He  now  opened  the  back  door  and  looked  into 
the  kitchen. 

"  I  drove  off  my  new  cook  this  morning,"  he  remarked. 
"She  was  the  worst  one  I  have  had  yet.  But  another 
woman  promised  to  come  by  noon,  and  if  she  don't  show 
up  soon  I'll  take  my  gun  and  go  after  her." 

"  You  are  a  jolly  housekeeper,"  said  Surrey. 

"  I  am  not  half  a  bad  one,"  answered  his  host.  "  I  am 
going  to  hire  a  sailor  as  soon  as  I  can  get  down  to  the 
lower  end  of  the  county." 

"  A  queer  place  to  find  sailors !  "  said  Surrey.  "  And 
what  you  want  with  one  I  do  not  know.  But  we  won't 
discuss  that  at  present.  I  am  not  troubled  about  the 
cooking.  If  there  is  no  one  else  to  do  it,  I  can  do  it  my- 
self. I  have  camped  out  enough  to  know  all  about  that. 
You  have  two  bed-rooms  in  this  house,  haven't  you?  " 

"  Of  course  I  have,"  anwered  Prouter. 


420  ARDIS   CLA  VERDE  N. 

"  Well  then,  suppose  you  show  me  to  the  one  that  is  to 
be  mine."  And,  so  saying,  he  stepped  out  on  the  porch 
where  his  baggage  had  been  left. 

Prouter  took  up  one  of  the  valises,  and  led  the  way  up- 
stairs, followed  by  his  guest  carrying  the  other  bag. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  421 


CHAPTER    XLIT. 

JACK  SURREY  had  very  good  grounds  for  not  telling 
Prouter  his  object  in  coming  down  there,  for  he  could 
not  have  given  to  himself  a  definite  reason  for  this  action. 
Since  he  had  left  Atlanta  he  had  been  an  aimless  and  a 
somewhat  dissatisfied  wanderer,  and  after  having  given  a 
good  deal  of  desultory  thought  to  the  subject,  the  con- 
viction had  been  forced  upon  him  that  no  place  suited 
him  so  well  as  the  neighborhood  of  Bolton ;  and  he  there- 
fore determined  to  go  and  make  a  visit  to  that  amusing 
young  fellow,  Tom  Prouter. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion  he  seriously  assured 
himself  that  he  was  not  going  down  into  that  region  on 
account  of  Ardis  Claverden.  His  case  had  been  very 
definitely  settled  by  that  young  lady ;  although,  to  be  sure, 
circumstances  had  changed  since  then,  and  he  did  not 
know  whether  they  had  rearranged  themselves  or  not. 
But  he  strongly  opined  that  at  present  the  sight  of  him 
would  be  distasteful  to  Miss  Claverden;  and  that,  there- 
fore, he  would  keep  out  of  her  way,  at  least  until  he  had 
seen  how  things  were  going.  Under  these  circumstances 
most  men  would  have  stayed  away  altogether.  But  Jack 
Surrey  was  not  at  alt  like  most  men. 

It  was  pleasant  to  him  to  think  that  he  was  in  the  same 
rural  neighborhood  with  Miss  Claverden;  and  that  they 
breathed  the  same  general  air.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
his  freedom  of  movement  was  very  much  interfered  with 
by  his  determination  to  keep  out  of  her  way.  On  public 


422  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

roads,  and  in  a  town  like  Bolton,  people  must  of  course 
take  their  chances  of  meeting;  but  by  all  reasonable- 
methods  he  would  let  it  be  seen  that  he  had  no  inten- 
tion of  intruding  upon  her. 

This  resolution,  however,  did  not  interfere  with  his  hav- 
ing a  very  good  time.  He  took  long  rambles  into  the 
woods  and  mountains ;  sometimes  with  his  host,  and  some- 
times without  him.  Prouter  frequently  drove  him  in  his 
dog-cart  into  town ;  and  very  often  Surrey  borrowed  the 
horse  and  cart  and  drove  himself  where  he  pleased.  He 
had  made  acquaintances  in  the  town,  and  with  these  he 
sometimes  stopped  for  a  chat ;  and,  after  a  time,  he  even 
called  upon  some  people  he  had  known  in  the  Bald  Hill 
neighborhood. 

His  success  in  this  respect,  however,  was  not  great. 
When  Doctor  Lester  beheld  him  approaching  his  house 
that  worthy  gentleman  was  rilled  with  such  feelings  of 
abhorrence  that  he  opened  a  back  window,  and  leaping  out 
through  it,  made  for  the  woods.  He  had  heard  that  this 
bearer  of  evil  and  of  misery,  this  pestilential  and  shameless 
man,  was  staying  at  Prouter's,  but  he  did  not  believe  that 
he  would  have  the  black-hearted  effrontery  to  call  upon 
him.  Surrey  found  an  empty  house  and  went  away. 

"It  would  seem,"  thought  the  doctor,  as  he  sat  on  the 
ground  in  the  heart  of  the  forest,  his  pipe  in  his  mouth 
and  his  back  against  a  tree,  "  as  if  the  wretch  could  do 
no  further  evil  now,  but  I  am  not  sure ;  I  am  not  sure. 
Anyway,  the  sight  of  him  is  evil  to  me. 

The  next  visit  paid  by  Surrey  was  to  Heatherley  where 
he  called  upon  Miss  Norma  Cranton.  When  this  young 
lady  received  the  card  of  the  visitor  who  had  been  shown 
into  the  parlor,  her  face  flushed,  she  stamped  her  foot 
upon  the  floor,  and  declared  that  she  would  not  go  one 
inch  down  to  see  him.  Such  unparalleled  impudence 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  423 

she  had  never  heard  of  !  For  him  to  call  upon  her  ! 
What  on  earth  could  be  the  object  of  his  coming? 

She  stopped  the  servant,  who  was  on  the  point  of  going 
down-stairs  to  tell  the  gentleman  that  her  mistress  could 
not  see  him,  and  stood  reflecting.  Her  anger  at  what 
she  considered  the  insult  of  the  call  did  not  abate,  but  it 
was  now  mingled  with  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  know 
what  the  man  could  have  to  say  to  her.  She  had  heard 
that  he  was  in  the  neighborhood,  but  she  had  not  imag- 
ined it  possible  that  he  would  come  to  Heatherley  to  call 
upon  her.  But  she  must  know  what  he  wanted;  and 
down-stairs  she  went. 

Norma's  reception  of  Mr.  Surrey  was  decidedly  freezing ; 
the  temperature  of  her  manner  might  have  been  placed  at 
about  fifteen  degrees  above  zero.  She  did  not  even  offer 
him  her  hand,  but  after  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head 
as  she  entered  the  room  she  sat  down  near  the  door, 
holding  herself  very  erect  and  not  touching  the  back  of 
the  chair. 

Surrey  resumed  his  seat  which  was  on  the  other  side  of 
the  large  room.  "  I  hope,  Miss  Cranton,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  have  been  well  since  I  last  saw  you." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  somewhat  severely.  "  Have  you  any 
business  with  me?  " 

"  Yes,  Miss  Cranton,"  Surrey  replied.  "  I  have  called 
to  see  you  upon  business ;  and  I  come  to  you  because  I 
believe  you  to  be  a  lady,  who,  no  matter  what  you  may 
think  of  me  and  my  affairs,  will  speak  to  me  fairly  and 
squarely.  I  wish  to  make  some  very  clear  and  plain 
statements  to  you,  and  I  know  no  one  in  these  parts  who 
is  so  likely  to  give  plain  and  clear  opinions  regarding  my 
statements." 

"Indeed!"  remarked  Miss  Cranton. 

The  assurance  of  almgst  any  presumptuous  man  would 


424  ARDIS  CLA  VERDE  N. 

have  been  congealed  by  the  coldness  of  her  tone,  but 
Surrey  had  prepared  himself  for  chilliness  and  this  had  no 
apparent  effect  upon  him.  He  proceeded: 

"  I  know  very  well,  for  I  have  been  told  often  enough, 
that  certain  misunderstandings  which  have  occurred 
among  your  friends  hereabouts  have  been  ascribed  to  my 
influence.  And  in  speaking  of  these  things  I  do  not 
wish  to  beat  the  bush,  or  to  hint ;  I  desire  to  speak  clearly 
and  plainly,  as  I  said  before,  and  to  call  things  and 
people  by  their  right  names.  Those  who  look  upon  me 
as  an  emissary  of  mischief — and  that  there  are  persons 
who  look  upon  me  in  that  way  I  have  frequently  been  in- 
formed— are  entirely  in  the  wrong.  It  is  no  more  than 
justice  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  make  a  straightforward 
declaration  of  what  I  have  intended  to  do,  and  what  I 
have  done.  You  may  think  just  as  badly  of  me  after  I 
have  finished  speaking  as  you  do  now,  but  still  honor  and 
justice  demand  that  I  shall  be  allowed  to  speak." 

Norma  looked  steadily  at  him,  but  made  no  answer. 
She  was  perfectly  willing  that  honor  and  justice  should 
have  their  way ;  and  more  than  willing  to  hear  what  was 
about  to  be  disclosed. 

"  I  came  to  Bolton  and  to  Bald  Hill,"  continued  Surrey, 
"  to  see  Miss  Claverden.  I  desired  to  marry  her.  You 
perceive  I  have  no  concealments.  For  a  time  I  got  on 
very  well,  and  I  had  no  reason  to  suppose  that  I  had  not 
as  good  a  chance  as  any  other  man.  But  I  discovered 
that  there  was  another  man  who  had  a  better  chance  than 
myself ;  but  I  did  not  know  him  as  a  preferred  suitor  of 
Miss  Claverden  until  he  suddenly  flared  up,  got  jealous, 
and  made  a  row.*' 

"  He  had  a  right  to  be  jealous,"  said  Norma. 

"Of  course  he  had,"  answered  Surrey,  "a  perfect  right. 
But  then  I  am  not  to  blame  because  he  chose  to  show  his 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  425 

jealousy  as  he  did.  There  are  better  ways  of  showing 
that  passion  which  I  would  have  advised  had  I  been  con- 
sulted. When  I  found  how  matters  stood  I  went  away 
and  left  the  field  clear.  I  don't  pretend  to  say  that  I 
went  away  willingly,  or  that  I  was  in  any  hurry  to  go.  I 
was  as  much  in  earnest  as  anybody  concerned  in  the 
affair.  If  there  was  any  chance  left  for  me  I  wanted  to 
stay  and  see  what  it  was." 

"  If  you  had  kept  away  from  her  when  you  did  leave, 
Mr.  Surrey,"  said  Norma,  "  all  might  have  been  well ;  but 
it  was  perfectly  wicked  of  you  to  go  down  after  her  to 
Georgia! " 

"  I  differ  with  you,  Miss  Cranton,"  said  Surrey.  "  I  had 
reason  to  believe  that  Miss  Claverden  was  at  Atlanta 
and  I  went  down  there  on  purpose  to  see  her.  I  have  no 
intention  of  concealing  the  actual  truth.  Her  engage- 
ment with  Dunworth  had  then  been  broken  off  for  some 
time,  and  I  did  not  know  in  what  way  her  feelings  might 
have  changed,  and  I  determined  to  go  and  find  out.  I 
maintain  that  I  had  a  perfect  right  to  go  and  find  out." 

"  But  you  had  no  right  to  make  all  the  trouble  you  did 
make,"  said  Norma,  "  and  totally  ruin  the  happiness  of 
two  lives." 

"  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  all  that,"  said  Surrey.  "  That 
trouble  was  arranged  entirely  by  Miss  Claverden  and 
Dunworth.  One  got  angry  at  my  being  there,  and  chal- 
lenged me  to  fight  a  duel ;  the  other  discarded  her  lover 
because  he  fought  a  duel ;  that  was  all  there  was  of  it.  I 
went  there  with  no  intention  of  making  trouble,  and  in- 
deed I  did  everything  a  man  could  do  to  avoid  making  trou- 
ble. I  accepted  the  challenge,  of  course,  because  I  am  no 
coward,  and  will  give  no  man  the  opportunity  to  look  upon 
me  as  such,  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  not 
wound  a  woman,  especially  a  woman  whom  I  had  loved 


426  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

and  would  be  glad  to  love  again.  If  I  killed  Dunworth 
I  should  inflict  a  terrible  grief  upon  Miss  Claverden.  I 
therefore  resolved  to  fire  in  the  air,  and  I  did  fire  in  the 
air.  Could  more  than  that  be  expected  of  a  man?  " 

"  No,"  said  Norma,  her  eyes  turned  upward  toward  the 
portrait  of  a  male  ancestor  which  hung  upon  the  wall. 
"  A  brave  man  could  do  no  more  nor  less  than  what  you 
did  after  you  were  challenged.  But  the  trouble  came 
from  what  you  did  before  that." 

"  But  I  still  maintain,"  said  Surrey,  "  that  I  ought  not  to 
be  held  accountable  for  it.  I  assert  that  what  I  did  was 
straightforward  and  above  board.  If  I  found  things  as  I 
hoped  they  might  be,  so  much  the  better  for  me;  if  I 
foun  1  them  not  so,  so  much  the  worse;  in  either  case  I 
should  have  accepted  my  fate,  and  there  would  have  been 
an  end  of  it." 

"  If  you  had  spoken  in  this  way  before,  Mr.  Surrey,"  said 
Norma,  "  it  would  have  been  much  better  for  everybody." 

"  I  never  had  a  chance  to  speak,"  he  answered.  "  I  am 
always  willing  enough  to  talk,  and  to  put  myself  on  record 
in  the  largest  kind  of  letters ;  but  down  here  nobody  has 
taken  the  trouble  to  consult  me  in  the  least.  Our  good 
friends  have  simply  come  to  their  own  conclusions,  and 
settled  matters  in  their  own  way." 

"  We  have  a  perfect  right  to  do  that,  Mr.  Surrey,"  said 
Norma,  "  but  of  course  it  might  have  been  better  if  things 
had  been  really  discussed." 

"  Well,  we  will  not  speak  any  more  of  that,  Miss  Cran- 
ton,"  said  Surrey.  "  Fault  enough  has  been  found  with 
me,  I  think  you  will  admit,  but  I  have  not  the  least  dispo- 
sition to  strike  back.  I  came  down  here  this  time  because 
I  like  the  country  and  I  like  the  people.  Because  I  lost 
what  I  came  for  on  my  first  visit  is  no  reason  why  I  should 
give  up  everything  else.  I  had  an  idea  of  settling  in  this 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  427 

region,  and  I  do  not  know  why  I  should  banish  that  idea 
now.  I  should  like  ever  so  much  to  have  an  orchard  and 
a  vineyard  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I  envy  the  inde- 
pendent life  that  young  Prouter  leads." 

"  Then  I  suppose  you  would  have  your  son  with  you," 
said  Norma,  whose  mind  in  this  planning  for  the  future 
had  far  outrun  that  of  the  speaker. 

A  slight  look  of  surprise  appeared  on  Surrey's  face,. and 
then  he  smiled.  "  Yes,"  he  said,  "  when  he  is  old  enough 
he  would  come  down  to  visit  me,  of  course.  But  just  now 
he  is  only  six,  and  his  mother's  family  have  charge  of  him. 
They  guard  him  as  if  he  were  a  perishable  diamond.  I 
expect  I  shall  be  delighted  to  have  him  live  with  me,  but 
I  must  wait  until  he  is  a  great  deal  older  before  that  can 
be  arranged.  At  present  I  am  entirely  alone.  As  I  said 
before,  I  should  like  to  make  a  home  in  this  neighbor- 
hood. But  I  think  you  will  agree  with  me  that  it  would 
be  pretty  hard  for  me  to  come  and  settle  down  here  among 
a  lot  of  enemies." 

"  Of  course  it  would,"  promptly  replied  Norma. 

"  Now  I  want  to  be  friendly  with  all  of  you.  There  is 
not  a  man  nor  woman  in  this  county  toward  whom  I  feel 
the  least  enmity.  I  should  like  to  go  to  Dunworth,  and 
take  him  by  the  hand  and  tell  him  that  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned  the  past  is  all  forgotten  and  ask  him  to  forget 
it.  And  then,  there  is  Dr.  Lester.  He  is  a  jolly,  good 
old  fellow,  but  I  don't  believe  he  would  shake  hands  with 
me.  As  for  Major  Claverden  he  is  the  finest  specimen 
of  an  old  Virginia  gentleman  I  ever  saw,  and  I  want  to 
be  on  good  terms  with  him." 

"  O  Mr.  Surrey,"  said  Norma,  "  I  think  you  are  per- 
fectly right  in  wanting  to  make  friends  with  the  people 
who  may  become  your  neighbors ;  but  I  beg  of  you  not  to 
go  see  Mr.  Dunworth,  and  not  to  go  to  Bald  Hill — at 


428  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

least  for  the  present.     Perhaps  after  awhile  it  won't  mat- 
ter, but  do  not  go  now." 

During  this  protracted  conversation  the  temperature  of 
Norma's  demeanor  had  been  gradually  rising,  and  now  it 
was,  at  least,  at  sixty  degrees ;  temperate  certainly,  with  a 
suspicion  of  warmth  in  it.  Surrey  had  noticed  this  change, 
but  he  had  not  taken  the  slightest  advantage  of  it.  He 
had  not  seated  himself  nearer  to  her,  nor  did  his  voice  or 
manner  betray  any  recognition  of  a  thaw  in  her  bearing 
toward  him.  He  had  too  much  tact  to  do  anything  which 
might  alarm  her,  or  make  her  think  she  was  speaking  too 
freely  to  a  man  whom  she  had  always  detested. 

"  I  do  not  see,  Miss  Cranton,"  he  answered,  "  that  I 
could  do  any  harm  by  going  to  either  of  those  houses ; 
but  as  I  told  you,  I  came  here,  not  only  to  speak  clearly 
and  plainly,  but  to  listen  to  what  you  might  clearly  and 
plainly  say  to  me.  I  felt  sure  that  you  would  speak  in 
that  way;  and  since  you  feel  so  strongly  about  it  I  am 
perfectly  willing  to  defer  to  it ;  and  I  promise  you  I  will 
not  go  to  Bald  Hill,  nor  to  the  Dunworth  farm  until  I  am 
quite  sure  no  further  complications  will  ensue.  In  fact  I 
am  willing  to  put  the  matter  into  your  hands.  When  you 
say  I  may  go,  I  will  go." 

And,  so  saying,  he  arose,  and  Norma  left  her  chair  and 
involuntarily  made  two  or  three  steps  toward  him.  "  Mr. 
Surrey,"  she  said,  "  you  must  not  do  that !  I  cannot  take 
on  myself  such  a  responsibility!  In  fact  I  really  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  matter,  and  I  only  speak  on  account 
of  my  friendly  feeling  toward — toward — everybody." 

"  I  am  sure  of  that,"  said  Surrey,  making  a  leisurely  step 
or  two  in  her  direction. 

"And  as  to  your  making  friends  in  this  neighborhood," 
said  Norma,  "  I  am  willing  to  do  everything  I  can  to  help 
you ;  and  I  am  sure  Mr.  Prouter  will  introduce  you  to  all 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  429 

the  English  families  about  here;  and  there  are  the  Dal- 
rymples,  whom  perhaps  you  know  already;  and,  in  fact, 
there  is  a  good  deal  of  society  here,  though,  of  course, 
somewhat  scattered." 

"  You  are  very  good,"  said  Surrey,  "  and  I  must  thank 
you,  Miss  Cranton,  for  the  straightforward  and  satisfactory 
manner  in  which  you  have  talked  with  me.  And-  now  I 
will  bid  you  good  afternoon." 

He  extended  his  hand  to  her  with  an  air  as  if  it 
were  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for  him  to  do  so, 
and  Norma  took  it  as  if  it  were  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  for  her  to  do  so.  And  as  he  left,  she  followed 
him  out  on  the  porch. 

"  Mr.  Surrey,"  she  said,  "  I  feel  as  if  I  ought  to  thank 
you  for  the  promise  you  made,  and  I  do  hope  that  you 
will  not  see  any  reason  for  changing  your  mind." 

"  No  fear  of  that,"  said  Surrey.  "  With  me  a  promise 
is  a  promise.  And  though  you  do  not  insist  upon  it  I  in- 
tend to  confer  with  you  before  I  visit  either  the  Claver- 
dens  or  Dunworth.  Is  not  thTat  Mr.  Cranton  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Norma,  "  that  is  my  father." 

Mr.  Cranton  was  a  small  man,  plain  in  appearance,  and 
retiring  in  disposition.  He  attended  closely  to  the  busi- 
ness of  his  farm,  avoided  company,  and  to  casual  visitors 
at  Heatherley  was  almost  unknown.  But  he  was  a  man 
of  education  and  reading,  and  those  who  were  so  fortu- 
nate as  to  know  him  well  enough  to  spend  an  evening 
with  him  found  him  an  agreeable  and  profitable  talker. 

"  I  should  like  very  much  to  know  Mr.  Cranton,"  said 
Surrey.  "  Will  you  present  me?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  Norma.  And  as  her  father  came 
nearer,  his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  she  called  to  him. 
"Father,"  she  said,  "this  is  Mr.  Surrey.  I  want  to  make 
you  acquainted  with  him." 


430  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

Mr.  Cranton  looked  up,  put  down  a  wooden  rake  which 
he  was  bringing  to  the  house  to  mend,  and  approached 
the  steps,  but  before  he  reached  them  Surrey  ran  quickly 
down  and  shook  hands  with  him.  After  expressing  his 
pleasure  at  making  the  acquaintance,  and  declining  an  in- 
vitation to  stay  to  dinner,  which  came  as  naturally  to  Mr. 
Cranton  as  would  a  remark  about  the  weather,  Surrey 
raised  his  hat  to  Norma  and  departed. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  431 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

ON  the  afternoon  when  Jack  Surrey  walked  from  Prou- 
ter's  house  to  Heatherley,  Dr.  Lester,  through  his 
open  window,  saw  him  pass  along  the  road.  The  doctor 
was  a  man  of  kindly  temper  and  of  gentle  manner,  but  as 
his  eyes  fell  upon  Surrey  he  struck  his  fist  upon  the  table 
by  which  he  was  sitting,  and  exclaimed :  "  Perdition  take 
him!" 

The  doctor's  mind  was  discomposed,  and  he  could  not 
go  on  with  his  work.  He  was  copying  and  restoring  for 
Major  Claverden  a  dilapidated  map  of  the  Bald  Hill  es- 
tate ;  but  thoughts  of  Surrey  would  not  coincide  with  pre- 
cise lines  and  careful  measurements. 

"  I  wonder,"  said  the  doctor  to  himself  as  he  walked  up 
and  down  the  room,  "  if  she  knows  he  is  here.  She  should 
be  put  upon  her  guard.  Not  that  there  is  actual  danger 
to  her,  but  her  eyes  should  not  be  permitted  to  fall  upon 
him.  It  might  be  well  for  her  to  go  away  for  a  time.  At 
any  rate  she  should  know  that  he  is  here;  most  certainly 
she  should  know." 

After  a  little  more  striding  about  the  room,  the  doctor 
put  away  his  drawing  materials,  took  up  his  hat  and  his 
grapevine  walking-stick,  and  set  out  for  Bald  Hill. 

When  he  arrived  there  he  was  told  that  Miss  Ardis  was 
in-  her  studio.  The  doctor  was  sorry  to  hear  this ;  he  did 
not  like  the  studio.  When  he  saw  Ardis  there  she  gener- 
ally wore  a  long  apron  covered  with  dabs  of  various-col- 
ored paints.  He  did  not  think  the  most  perfect  beauty 


432  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

in  the  whole  world  should  appear  in  an  attire  like  this, 
nor  did  it  coincide  with  his  ideas  of  propriety  that  a  lady 
of  her  station  and  family,  a  lady  who  in  appearance,  breed- 
ing, and  blood  was  worthy  to  consort  with  the  noblest  in 
rank  and  to  wed  with  royalty,  should  ever  be  seen  in  ap- 
parel the  least  unkempt,  and  working  with  more  or  less 
grimy  oils  and  paints.  He  had  the  highest  possible  opin- 
ion of  her  pictures,  but  he  did  not  like  to  see  her  paint. 

In  spite  of  this  dislike,  and  it  would  have  been  a  very 
strong  dislike  for  surroundings  and  occupation  which 
would  have  kept  him  away  from  Ardis,  the  doctor  walked 
down  to  the  old  stone  building  which  served  for  a  studio. 
The  doors  and  the  windows  were  all  open,  and  before  he 
reached  the  house  the  doctor  saw  Ardis,  and  he  was  sur- 
prised and  delighted  to  perceive  that  she  was  not  attired 
in  the  unpleasing  garb  of  an  artist;  and  that,  apparently, 
she  was  not  painting.  She  was  seated  near  the  large  north 
window  at  the  end  of  the  room,  and  as  the  doctor  knocked 
on  the  frame  of  the  open  side  door  before  entering,  she 
looked  up  and  gave  a  little  start. 

It  was  very  unusual  for  Ardis  to  start  at  the  entrance  of 
any  one,  but  when  she  saw  Dr.  Lester  at  the  door  she  was 
the  least  bit  in  the  world  embarrassed,  and  a  good  deal 
amused.  She  was  engaged  in  embroidering  some  velvet 
which  was  to  be  made  into  a  pair  of  slippers ;  and  these 
were  to  be  given  to  Dr.  Lester  on  his  birthday,  which  would 
occur  in  a  few  weeks.  Not  wishing  that  he  should  see 
this  present  until  it  was  finished,  and  knowing  that  he 
would  not  be  very  likely  to  drop  in  upon  her  at  the  studio, 
she  had  come  here. 

This  early  summer  afternoon  was  warm  and  Ardis  was 
dressed  in  white,  which,  according  to  the  doctor's  opinion, 
displayed  her  beauty  to  perfection.  She  wore  a  pink  gir- 
dle and  some  pink  roses  at  her  bosom,  and  in  her  face,  as 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  433 

her  visitor  entered,  there  was  a  little  more  of  pink  than 
was  usual  with  her. 

But  Ardis  almost  instantly  recovered  from  her  slight 
surprise,  and  the  feeling  of  amusement  at  the  speedy  over- 
throw of  her  little  scheme  only  served  to  give  additional 
brightness  to  her  reception  of  the  doctor.  His  eyes  spar- 
kled with  delight.  They  could  do  nothing  for  him  which 
made  him  more  truly  thankful  that  he  owned  them  than 
to  show  him  Ardis  thus. 

When  he  had  seated  himself,  Ardis  turned  the  velvet 
toward  him  and  asked  him  how  he  liked  the  floral  decora- 
tions which  had  begun  to  appear  upon  it.  The  doctor 
had  not  the  least  idea  of  the  ultimate  object  of  this  piece 
of  work,  but  he  thought  the  embroidery  beautiful.  He 
liked  to  see  Ardis  doing  such  things  as  this.  How  charm- 
ing her  white  and  delicately-formed  hand  appeared  against 
the  glossy  surface  of  the  velvet! 

The  studio  seemed  a  new  place  to  the  doctor  that  day. 
He  sat  with  his  back  to  the  easels,  the  paints,  the  brushes 
the  canvases  standing  with  their  faces  to  the  wall,  and  all 
that  artistic  disorder  which  so  jarred  upon  his  sense  of 
what  was  fitting  for  Ardis.  Before  him  was  the  loveliest 
woman  in  the  world,  relieved  by  a  background  of  green 
leaves,  sunlight,  vines,  and  the  softened  hues  of  distant 
foliage.  It  seemed  to  him  a  wrong  and  cruel  thing  to 
bring  bad  news  into  such  a  Paradise,  but  he  had  come  to 
perform  what  he  believed  to  be  a  duty  and  he  must  not 
shrink  from  it. 

"  Miss  Ardis,"  he  said,  "my  object  in  calling  upon  you 

to-day  is  to  inform  you  of  something  which  may  surprise 

and  annoy  you.     Mr.  Surrey  is  again  in  this  neighborhood." 

Ardis  smiled.     "  You  are  always  good,  doctor,"  she 

said,  "  and  it  is  very  good  indeed  of  you  to  come  and  tell 

me  that ;  but  I  knew  it  already.    I  have  not  seen  him,  but 

28 


434  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

some  of  the  servants  mentioned  that  he  was  staying  with 
Mr.  Prouter." 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?"  asked  the 
doctor  earnestly.  "  I  am  grieved  and  indignant  that  this 
man  should  have  had  the  hardihood  to  show  himself  in  this 
part  of  the  country.  I  can  hardly  suppose  that  he  pos- 
sesses the  effrontery  to  present  himself  at  your  house,  but 
I  do  not  know.  He  is  capable  of  almost  anything!  And 
in  going  about  the  country  you  are  liable  to  encounter  him 
at  any  time." 

Ardis  laid  her  work  in  her  lap  and  turned  her  eyes  upon 
the  doctor.  "  Dr.  Lester,"  said  she,  "  let  us  have  a  little 
quiet  talk  upon  this  subject.  Mr.  Surrey  is  nothing  to 
me,  and  I  do  not  intend  that  his  appearance  here  shall 
disturb  me  in  the  least.  I  do  not  think  it  is  very  good 
taste  in  him  to  appear  in  this  neighborhood,  but  I  cannot 
discompose  myself  on  account  of  his  want  of  taste.  I 
speak  very  plainly  to  you,  doctor,  because  you  are  such 
a  dear  friend,  and  I  want  you  to  know  that  all  the  trouble 
I  went  through  with,  and  which  you  so  bravely  went  through 
with  me,  is  now  a  thing  of  the  past.  I  am  resolved  that  it 
shall  be  so.  As  to  Mr.  Surrey,  he  is,  of  course,  free  to 
visit  or  to  go  where  he  pleases.  He  can  come  to  this 
county,  or  go  to  another;  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
If  I  meet  him  I  shall  acknowledge  that  I  know  him- — that 
is  all.  I  have  no  fear  that  he  will  endeavor  to  renew  his 
former  acquaintance  with  either  me  or  my  father;  his  not 
coming  here  proves  that.  But  if  he  should  so  endeavor,  I 
can  readily  make  him  understand  that  he  is  nothing  more 
than  one  of  many  men  whom  I  merely  know. 

"And  while  I  am  talking  to  you  in  this  way,  doctor,  I 
want  to  impress  upon  you  that  all  in  which  Mr.  Surrey 
could  make  trouble,  has  disappeared.  I  have  thought  a 
great  deal  about  you,  doctor,  in  connection  with  this  mat- 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


435 


ter,  and  I  hope  most  earnestly  that  you  do  not  think  me 
inconstant,  or  changeable." 

"Indeed,  I  do  not!"  replied  the  doctor,  the  words 
coming  from  his  very  heart  of  hearts. 

Ardis  thrust  into  the  velvet  the  embroidery  needle, 
which  she  had  been  holding,  and  extended  her  hand  to 
the  doctor.  "  That  is  right !  "  she  said.  "  I  can  always 
trust  to  you." 

The  doctor  took  her  hand  and  held  it  for  some  seconds. 
A  wild  desire  seized  him  to  drop  upon  his  knees  and  kiss 
it.  Why  not?  He  had  kissed  that  girl  a  thousand  times 
when  she  was  a  child.  And,  more  than  that,  she  herself, 
since  she  had  been  grown  up,  not  very  long  ago — but  here 
his  thoughts  stopped.  A  sudden  coldness  came  over  him. 
He  had  remembered  too  much.  Very  gently  and  respect- 
fully he  released  her  hand. 

She  continued:  "What  I  have  done  was  done  because 
perfect  trust  and  loyalty  is  absolutely  necessary  to  me.  I 
trust  and  am  truly  loyal,  and  I  demand  the  same.  It  was 
not  easy  for  me  to  bring  myself  to  this  way  of  thinking.  I 
went  through  a  terrible  trial,  but  I  determined  to  do  my 
duty  to  myself  and  to — to  Roger  Dunworth.  I  would  not 
ruin  the  happiness  of  my  life,  nor  the  happiness  of  his  life. 
And  now  we  come  round  again  to  our  text,  which  is  that 
Mr.  Surrey  is  not  of  the  slightest  importance." 

She  took  up  her  work  and  recommenced  her  embroi- 
dery. 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  said  the  doctor.  "  I  merely 
dreaded  to  have  him  near  you;  that  is  all." 

"  Doctor,"  said  Ardis,  looking  out  of  the  great  window 
at  the  leaves  and  the  vines  and  the  sunlight,  "  I  wish  there 
were  more  like  you!  Then  we  could  trust,  and  be 
trusted ;  and  this  world  would  be  a  sensible  one,  and  a 
happy  one." 


436  ARDIS   CLA  VERDE  N. 

The  doctor  murmured  something  in  reply,  and  looked 
upon  the  floor.  Was  this  last  stroke  necessary? 

Not  long  after  this  the  doctor  left.  Walking  medita- 
tively homeward  he  saw  on  the  other  side  of  the  road  Mr. 
Surrey  coming  jauntily  down  from  Heatherley.  The  doc- 
tor's first  impulse  was  to  turn  his  head  the  other  way  and 
increase  his  pace ;  but  he  instantly  remembered  that  this 
was  what  he  ought  not  to  do.  He  now  knew  that  she 
meant  to  treat  the  man  politely,  and  as  a  person  of  no 
importance,  and  that  he  would  please  her  by  also  treating 
him  politely;  and  therefore  when  he  was  nearly  opposite 
Surrey,  he  bowed. 

The  latter  immediately  stopped  but  did  not  cross  the 
road.  He  intended  to  be  very  wary  and  prudent  in  such 
matters.  "  Good  day,  doctor!  "  he  cried  cheerily.  "  I  am 
glad  to  see  you  looking  so  well." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  doctor,  and  passed  on.  He  felt 
degraded,  but  he  would  have  done  the  same  thing  again. 

As  he  walked  homeward  a  fresh  trouble  lay  upon  the 
soul  of  the  doctor.  Ardis  had  told  him  just  before  he  left 
her  that  she  had  intended  spending  the  next  two  days  at 
Rocklands,  a  country  house  about  twenty  miles  distant. 
This  announcement  caused  an  uneasiness  in  the  doctor. 
The  son  and  heir  of  Rocklands  was  a  dashing  and  hand- 
some young  fellow.  Ardis  would  be  two  days  with  him. 
Certain  possibilities,  when  connected  with  Ardis,  always 
troubled  the  doctor  when  they  first  presented  themselves 
to  him. 

"  How  foolish  it  is,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  struck  his 
heavy  cane  on  the  ground,  "  What  an  ass !  what  a  dolt  I 
am !  This  young  man  is  nothing,  and  if  he  were  anything, 
what  is  that  to  me  ?  Why  should  I  ache  about  such  things  ? 
There  is  no  reason,  no  sense,  no  propriety,  no  excuse  for 
it!  It  must  be  stopped!" 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  437 

But  the  ache  continued  all  the  same. 

The  next  day,  in  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  afternoon, 
there  came  riding  to  Bald  Hill,  Mr.  Egbert  Dalrymple. 
He  wore  a  fresh  summer  suit,  and  in  his  buttonhole  a 
flower,  with  a  hue  indicative  of  the  approaching  maturity 
of  the  season.  When  he  had  dismounted  and  had  come 
to  the  house  he  was  informed  by  the  maid  who  came  to 
the  door  that  Miss  Claverden  was  not  at  home. 

"  So !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Dalrymple,  knitting  his  brows, 
and  glancing  darkly  at  his  feet.  Then  suddenly  elevating 
his  countenance,  he  asked:  "Are  you  sure  of  that?  Speak 
the  truth  now!" 

The  mind  of  the  maid  was  somewhat  fired  by  this  remark. 

"  Of  course  I'm  shuah  of  it !  "  she  said.  "She  went  away 
right  after  breakfas'  this  mornin'  and  told  me  she  wouldn't 
be  back  for  two  days." 

"  Where  did  she  go?  "  asked  Mr.  Dalrymple,  folding  his 
arms  as  he  spoke. 

The  woman  had  a  notion,  not  altogether  instinctive, 
that  this  was  none  of  the  young  man's  business,  and  she 
answered:  "She's  gone  ever  so  far.  She  didn't  give  me 
no  address." 

Dalrymple  looked  at  her  steadily.  "  I  have  a  strong 
belief,"  he  said,  "  that  she  is  in  this  house." 

Now  the  fire  in  the  soul  of  the  maid  blazed  up.  Seeing 
Major  Claverden  approaching  across  the  lawn,  she  ran 
down  to  him  and  informed  him,  with  as  much  respectful 
deference  as  her  angry  soul  allowed,  that  there  was  a  gen- 
tleman at  the  door  who  wanted  to  see  Miss  Ardis,  and 
who  as  much  as  said  to  her  that  she  bore  false  witness 
when  she  told  him  that  Miss  Ardis  had  gone  away. 

The  major  looked  up  at  the  house  and  recognized  Dal- 
rymple. "  Did  you  tell  him  where  Miss  Ardis  had  gone?  " 
he  asked. 


438  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  No  indeed,  sir,"  replied  the  servant,  "  and  I  don't 
reckon  he'd  'a'  b'lieved  me,  if  I  had." 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  major,  "  I  will  see  him." 

The  major  slowly  ascended  the  steps  of  the  piazza,  and 
gravely  but  courteously,  shook  hands  with  the  young  man. 
"  Will  you  walk  into  my  library,  sir?  "  said  he. 

Egbert  Dalrymple  gazed  past  him  at  a  solitary  floating 
cloud  and  asked:  "  Is  your  daughter  within,  sir?  " 

"  Will  you  kindly  walk  into  my  library?  "  repeated  the 
major  more  emphatically  than  before. 

Dalrymple  raised  his  eyebrows,  and  then,  without  a 
word,  followed  the  major  into  the  library.  The  latter 
closed  the  door  and  invited  his  visitor  to  be  seated. 
When  he  had  settled  himself  comfortably  in  his  favorite 
arm-chair,  the  major  crossed  his  legs,  fixed  his  eyes  upon 
Dalrymple,  and  remarked :  "  I  believe,  sir,  that  you  have 
been  informed  that  my  daughter  is  not  at  home." 

"  The  servant  so  said,"  replied  the  other,  "  but  I  place 
small  credence  in  the  words  of  such  people." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  major,  still  speaking  quietly  and  courte- 
ously, although  with  an  unusual  lack  of  smoothness  in  his 
tones,  "  the  domestics  in  my  house,  when  in  discharge  of 
their  duties,  speak  the  truth.  Were  they  discovered  do- 
ing otherwise  they  would  not  remain  here  an  instant.  That 
is  all  that  is  necessary  to  be  said  upon  that  point.  And 
now,  sir,  I  wish  to  ask  you  why  you  came  here  to-day  to 
see  my  daughter?  She  has  informed  me  of  what  occurred 
at  your  latest  visit  here,  and  has  repeated  to  me  the  an- 
swer she  made  to  your  overtures.  Now,  do  you  come  here 
merely  as  a  neighbor  to  visit  my  house  in  an  ordinary 
social  manner,  or  do  you  come  to  persist  in  a  suit  which 
you  have  been  positively  and  decidedly  forbidden  to 
make?" 

"I  come,"  said  Dalrymple,  folding  his  arms  and  looking 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  439 

straight  before  him,  "  because  all  that  is  in  me,  my  soul 
of  souls,  the  faculties  of  my  intellect,  and  the  affections  of 
my  heart;  all  indeed  .that  is  truly  me,  belong  to  your 
daughter.  My  part  in  life  is  to  bring  all  this  and  to  lay  it 
before  her.  Rebuffs,  prohibitions,  are  but  as  the  wind 
that  blows;  storm-wind  though  it  be.  I  bow.  The  tem- 
pest passes;  and  I  rise  again.  Therefore  am  I  here." 

Major  Claverden  uncrossed  his  legs;  he  sat  up  in  his 
chair,  leaning  slightly  forward.  His  eyes  were  bright  and 
his  voice,  although  stern,  was  not  raised.  "And  therefore, 
sir,"  said  he,  "  I  am  going  to  place  you  in  a  position  which 
no  one  has  held  in  my  lifetime,  nor  during  the  lifetime  of 
my  father,  nor,  to  the  best  of  my  belief,  during  that  of  my 
grandfather.  I  am  going  to  forbid  you  to  set  foot  upon 
this  estate!  It  grieves  and  mortifies  me,  sir,  to  say  such 
a  thing  to  the  son  of  a  neighbor,  a  resident  of  this  com- 
munity. But  never  in  my  life  did  I  imagine  that  any  one 
could  appear  before  me,  and  declare  with  the  shameless 
effrontery  which  you  have  exhibited,  his  intention  to  con- 
tinue, against  all  protests,  the  persecution  and  annoyance 
of  a  lady.  It  is  not  to  be  borne,  sir!  You  may  go!  " 

And  at  these  last  words  the  major  rose  to  his  feet. 
Egbert  Dalrymple  also  stood  up. 

"  So !  "  he  ejaculated.  And  then,  with  a  bow,  he  turned 
and  left  the  room. 

The  major  followed  him  to  the  hall  door.  Dalrymple 
stepped  out  on  the  piazza,  and  then  he  stopped.  Sud- 
denly he  turned  around. 

"  Will  you  inform  me,  sir,"  he  said,  "  at  what  house  your 
daughter  is  visiting?  " 

The  major's  face  grew  fiery  red.  A  storm  of  indignation 
rose  within  him,  and  angry  words  crowded  to  his  lips ;  but 
before  he  could  utter  one  of  them  a  tall  negro  man  with 
a  spade  upon  his  shoulder  appeared  around  a  corner  of 


440  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

the  house.  To  quarrel  at  his  own  door,  and  to  say  some- 
thing in  the  presence  of  his  own  servants  of  which  he 
might  afterward  feel  ashamed,  was  impossible  for  Major 
Claverden. 

Stepping  forward  to  the  railing  of  the  piazza  he  said, 
in  a  voice  which,  though  trembling,  was  tranquil  compared 
to  that  which  had  been  on  the  point  of  bursting  from 
him :  "  Henry,  put  down  that  spade,  and  go  with  this  young 
man  to  the  outer  gate  and  close  it  behind  him." 

"  Yaas,  sah,"  said  the  negro,  touching  his  hat. 

Egbert  Dalrymple,  followed  by  Henry,  rode  slowly  to 
the  outer  gate.  On  his  way  he  drew  from  his  buttonhole 
the  flower  which  indicated  the  coming  maturity  of  sum- 
mer. He  held  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked  at  it. 

"Faded?"  he  murmured.  "Hardly."  And  he  re- 
placed it  in  his  buttonhole. 

When  he  reached  the  gate  he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket, 
gave  the  colored  man  a  quarter  of  a  dollar,  and  rode  away. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  441 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

ARDIS  CLAVERDEN  returned  from  her  visit  in  a 
somewhat  disturbed  state  of  mind.  For  two  whole 
evenings,  and  two  whole  days,  the  young  fellow  at  Rock- 
lands  had  unremittingly  courted  her.  She  was  annoyed 
and  disappointed.  At  her  former  visits  to  this  place  noth- 
ing of  the  kind  had  occurred.  The  young  fellow  and  his 
sisters  had  been  pleasant  companions  for  her;  she  had 
liked  them  all.  But  now  the  sisters  had  been  thrown  into 
the  background. 

The  fact  was  that  Ardis  had  forgotten  that  circumstances 
had  very  much  changed.  It  had  long  been  understood 
in  the  neighborhood — better  understood  indeed  than  by 
the  persons  concerned — that  she  and  Roger  Dunworth 
were  intended  for  each  other,  and  there  was  but  little 
local  interference  with  what  was  known  to  be  the  most 
cherished  plan  of  the  master  of  Bald  Hill.  But  now  Ardis 
was  free,  and  therefore  other  people  were  free. 

The  major  did  not  inform  his  daughter  of  the  Dalrymple 
incident.  He  was  very  much  disturbed  and  annoyed  him- 
self at  having  been  obliged  to  speak  to  that  young  man  in 
the  way  in  which  he  had  spoken.  It  had  been  a  neces- 
sary thing  to  do,  but  as  the  master  of  a  house  famed  for 
long  years  for  its  genial  hospitality,  it  had  been  very  hard 
for  him.  The  man  had  been  sent  away,  definitely  and 
decidedly,  but  the  major  shrank  from  telling  his  daughter 
how  he  had  been  sent  away. 

The  disquietude  which  Ardis's  visit  to  Rocklands  had 
caused  her  did  not  last  long,  but  it  aroused  in  her  an  in- 


442  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

tense  desire  to  do  something,  and  to  do  it  vigorously ;  and 
as  painting  was  the  work  in  which  she  delighted,  she  went 
vigorously  to  painting.  Hitherto.  Ardis's  taste  had  in- 
clined to  head  and  figure  painting,  and  landscape,  when  it 
appeared,  was  subordinated  to  the  rest  of  the  picture ;  but 
now  her  fancy  turned  its  back  upon  the  human  form,  and 
she  determined  to  begin  a  large  work  which  should  be 
purely  landscape.  She  decided  upon  a  woodland  scene, 
and  in  a  moment  of  very  pardonable  petulance  she  gave 
her  picture,  even  before  she  began  it,  the  title :  "  Without 
a  Man." 

She  had  had  enough  of  men ;  at  least  for  the  present. 
Say  what  she  might  please  about  the  presence  of  Surrey 
in  the  neighborhood  making  no  difference  to  her,  it  did 
make  a  difference.  She  did  not  walk  out  nor  ride  as  fre- 
quently as  she  might  have  done  for  fear  she  should  meet 
him.  Of  course  it  was  of  no  consequence  if  she  did  meet 
him;  but  she  did  not  wish  to  do  so.  She  might  think  of 
Mi.  Dalrymple  as  having  been  definitely  dismissed,  but 
the  very  thought  of  him  annoyed  her.  To  that  lively 
young  man,  Tom  Prouter,  she  gave  no  consideration  as  a 
suitor,  but  his  visits  had  begun  to  be  a  little  tiresome. 
Fortunately,  since  Mr.  Surrey  had  been  his  guest,  he  had 
come  but  seldom.  And,  although  the  young  fellow  at 
Rocklands  was  not  worth  considering  at  all,  his  attentions 
had  been  so  pointed  and  his  manner  so  ardent  that  she 
could  not  entirely  forget  him. 

But  she  had  one  compensation.  There  should  be  no 
man  in  her  picture!  Art  was  independent,  and  it  could 
take  in  and  leave  out  whatever  it  pleased. 

About  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  Bald  Hill  house  was 
a  piece  of  woodland,  partly  of  evergreens,  and  partly  of 
chestnut  and  oak.  A  little  stream  ran  through  these 
woods,  and  in  it  were  many  picturesque  spots.  One  of 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


443 


these  nooks  Ardis  selected  as  the  subject  of  her  picture. 
It  was  a  little  amphitheatre  entirely  surrounded  by  trees, 
but  with  glimpses  of  vistas  here  and  there,  and  every 
chance  for  effects  of  sunlight  through  the  Pantheon-like 
opening  above. 

This  pleasant  spot  was  not  only  a  charming  subject  for 
a  picture,  but  it  also  made  an  admirable  studio ;  and  here, 
every  morning,  Ardis  came,  accompanied  by  Uncle  Shad 
carrying  her  easel  and  painting  materials ;  the  canvas  she 
never  trusted  to  his  hands.  When  she  had  established 
herself  the  old  man  left  her.  It  was  a  retired  spot  where 
no  one  was  likely  to  come ;  and  if  she  had  needed  assist- 
ance it  would  not  have  been  difficult  to  summon  it.  It 
would  have  been  easier,  in  fact,  than  she  herself  imagined 
it,  for  the  Major  had  ordered  Uncle  Shad,  from  the  time 
he  left  Miss  Ardis  in  the  woods,  to  the  hour  when  he  had 
been  told  to  come  for  her,  to  work  in  a  part  of  the  great 
garden  where  he  could  easily  hear  his  mistress,  if  she 
wanted  anything  and  should  call.  More  than  that,  she  had 
always  the  company  of  Monaco,  her  father's  old  pointer. 

Ardis  was  charmed  with  her  studio,  and  if  the  fine 
weather  continued  long  enough,  she  determined  to  sketch, 
and  finish  her  picture  in  it.  It  should  grow  up  and  come 
to  maturity  in  the  way  where  the  trees,  the  vines,  the 
bi  shes,  and  the  delicate  wood-flowers  depicted  on  its  can- 
vas had  grown  up. 

It  happened  to  be  a  season  of  fine  weather.  The  far- 
mers did  not  like  it  because  their  crops  would  have  been 
the  better  for  some  rain ;  but  it  suited  Ardis  admirably. 
If  she  worked  hard  she  could  finish  her  picture  before  a 
change  of  the  moon,  or  whatever  it  was  that  regulated 
the  weather,  should  cover  the  fair  blue  sky  with  dull  and 
heavy  clouds  laden  with  rain. 

Between  the  wood  where  Ardis  was  painting  and  the 


444  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

house  grounds  was  a  small  stretch  of  open  grassy  fields ; 
and  one  morning  Mr.  Surrey,  standing  in  the  high  road,  saw 
Ardis  and  the  dog,  followed  by  the  old  negro  carrying  the 
easel,  the  camp  stool,  and  the  box,  cross  this  open  space 
and  enter  the  woods. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Surrey  had  seen  her  during  his 
present  visit.  She  was  at  a  considerable  distance,  but  his 
eyes  were  sharp,  and  they  dwelt  with  sparkling  pleasure 
upon  the  vision  of  this  charming  girl  crossing  the  green 
field.  He  could  discern  the  profile  of  her  face,  shadowed 
as  it  was  by  her  hat.  Every  fold  and  flutter  of  her  dress 
seemed  to  him  full  of  grace,  and  it  was  a  joy  to  look 
upon  that  lithe,  erect  figure,  stepping  so  quickly  and 
lightly  over  the  turf. 

Jack  Surrey  was  not  in  the  habit  of  denying  himself  any 
joy  which  he  could  get  for  nothing  or  for  which  he  did  not 
have  to  pay  too  much.  He  did  not  deny  himself  this  one. 
He  stood,  leaning  on  the  fence,  and  watched  her.  The 
canvas  in  her  hand,  and  the  negro's  burden,  showed  plainly 
the  object  of  her  walk. 

"  She  is  on  her  way  to  those  woods  to  sketch,'7  said 
Surrey  to  himself.  "  By  George !  it  is  a  vile  extravagance ; 
it  is  a  waste  of  blissful  influence  for  her  to  go  and  sketch 
in  those  woods  and  nobody  with  her  but  that  old  negro ! 
But  the  waste  will  have  to  be  waste,  I  suppose.  There 
is  nothing  for  me  in  that  quarter." 

He  watched  her  until  she  passed  out  of  sight  among 
the  trees,  and  then  he  remained  at  the  fence,  his  eyes  still 
upon  the  spot  where  she  had  disappeared.  Presently  he 
saw  the  old  negro  come  out  of  the  woods  and  take  his 
way  toward  the  house. 

"  Well,"  exclaimed  Surrey,  starting  back  from  the  fence, 
"this  is  a  pretty  state  of  affairs!  I  don't  call  it  exactly 
safe!  However,  the  dog  is  with  her." 


ARDIS  CLA  VERDEN.  445 

With  his  hands  thrust  into  his  pockets,  as  if  he  could 
thus  express  the  force  of  his  emotions,  Surrey  strolled 
along  the  roadside  toward  Prouter's  house.  Then  he 
,  turned  and  strode  back  again  to  the  place  from  which  he 
had  seen  Ardis.  Whether  he  was  waiting  to  see  her 
recross  the  open  space,  or  whether  he  felt  that  by  remain- 
ing in  that  locality  he  was  exercising  a  certain  protection 
over  her,  he  could  not  have  readily  answered.  Anyway  it 
pleased  him  as  well  to  be  there  as  anywhere  else ;  and, 
lighting  a  cigar,  he  continued  to  walk  up  and  down  the 
path  by  the  roadside,  sometimes  making  long  stretches 
and  sometimes  short  ones. 

Tom  Prouter,  who  was  on  the  top  of  a  hill  in  the  neigh- 
borhood looking  for  a  good  site  for  a  reservoir  in  case  he 
should  conclude  to  pump  water  from  the  lowlands  to  a 
height  from  which  it  could  run  in  a  pipe  to  his  domain, 
caught  sight  of  Surrey,  and  stopped  to  look  at  him.  At 
first  he  wanted  to  see  where  he  was  going ;  and  then  see- 
ing him  make  a  turn,  he  watched  him  again  and  saw  him 
make  several  turns. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  him?  "  he  said  to  himself.  "  If 
I  wanted  to  walk  I'd  go  somewhere!  There  are  plenty 
of  places  to  go  to;  why  don't  he  go  to  one?  I  asked  him 
to  come  up  here  with  me,  but  he  said  he  felt  too  lazy.  And 
well  he  might  say  so,  for  that's  what  I  call  beastly  lazy ; 
walking  and  going  nowhere." 

The  thought  now  struck  Prouter  that  it  would  be  a  fine 
thing  to  take  this  opportunity  of  going  over  to  see  Miss 
Claverden.  The  recent  infrequency  of  his  visits  to  Bald 
Hill  had  been  entirely  owing  to  the  fear  that  if  Surrey 
knew  he  intended  to  go  there  he  would  offer  to  accompany 
him.  To  be  sure,  his  guest  had  asserted  that  he  had  no 
further  designs  \ipon  the  lady  of  that  house ;  but,  for  all 
that,  Prouter  thought  it  would  be  very  well  not  to  sub- 


446  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

ject  him  to  temptation.  Now,  here  was  a  chance  of  get- 
ting to  Bald  Hill  without  Surrey  knowing  anything  about 
it,  and  he  hastened  to  avail  himself  of  it.  He  ran  along 
the  top  of  the  hill,  down  the  other  side  of  it,  around  its 
base,  over  a  field,  across  the  road,  and  so  to  the  other  side 
of  the  Bald  Hill  house,  which  he  approached  by  the  val- 
ley of  the  little  stream  which  ran  at  the  bottom  of  the  lawn. 
By  taking  this  circuitous  and  cautiously-planned  route 
Prouter  made  it  impossible  for  Surrey  to  see  him,  even  if 
the  latter  extended  his  walk  some  distance  in  this  direction. 

When  he  reached  the  house  Prouter  was  told  that  Miss 
Claverden  was  not  at  home,  and  that  the  major  had  gone 
to  Bolton.  Whereupon  he  departed  in  a  straight  line  for 
his  own  house  and  berated  the  laborers  in  his  vineyard. 

When  Surrey  began  to  tire  a  little  of  walking,  he  climbed 
a  fence  and  sat  down  under  a  tree.  Here  he  was  not 
noticeable,  either  from  field  or  road.  How  many  cigars 
he  smoked  before  he  saw  Uncle  Shad  go  down  to  the 
woods  and  soon  after  reappear  carrying  the  parapherna- 
lia, as  he  followed  his  mistress  with  the  canvas,  Surrey  did 
not  know.  He  had  been  busily  thinking. 

From  the  time  that  Ardis  again  came  into  view  to  the 
moment  she  disappeared  from  his  sight  Surrey  never  took 
his  eyes  from  her.  Then  he  arose  and  wended  his  way 
toward  Prouter's  house. 

"That  is  a  big  canvas!"  he  thought  as  he  walked. 
"And  the  old  darkey  carried  all  her  painting  traps!  She 
is  not  sketching — she  is  painting;  and  if  it  does  not  rain, 
it  is  ten  to  one  she  will  go  there  again  to-morrow." 

It  did  not  rain  the  next  day;  and  again  Surrey  saw 
Ardis  pass  the  open  space.  Again  he  saw  her  return  home. 
The  third  day  was  the  same.  And  during  that  morning 
Surrey  had  a  discussion  with  himself. 

"This  is  getting  to  be  rather  a  heavy  game,"  he  said  to 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  447 

himself,  "  and  Fate  is  coming  it  somewhat  too  strong  on 
me!  I  can  stand  about  as  much  temptation  as  any  man, 
but  this  sort  of  thing  is  too  much  of  the  whirlpool  order, 
and  I  seem  to  be  going  round  the  outer  edge  of  it.  What 
ought  a  man  to  do  in  such  a  case,  anyway?  Am  I  not 
making  an  ass  of  myself  by  dawdling  about  here  within 
five  minutes'  walk  of  her,  when  it  might  be  the  easiest 
thing,  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world,  just  to  drop  in 
on  her?  It  would  be  a  perfect  accident,  of  course;  and 
ten  to  one  she  would  not  mind  it  in  the  least.  In  fact, 
she  might  like  it!  It  is  more  than  probable,  indeed,  that 
she  would  be  very  glad  to  have  me  drop  in  on  her — at  least 
in  that  way.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  when  I  started  down 
here  I  swore  off  from  everything  of  the  kind.  When  a  man 
has  fought  a  duel  with  a  girl's  lover  and  has  broken  off  the 
match,  and  has  been  squarely  and  positively  discarded 
himself,  it  is  a  little  out  of  order  for  him  to  have  anything 
more  than  a  bowing  acquaintance  with  the  lady  in  ques- 
tion. I  have  vowed  to  myself  that  I  would  not  go  near 
her.  And  now  see  what  a  pressure  in  the  other  direction 
is  brought  upon  me!  I  may  have  been  a  fool  to  come 
here,  but  that  point  can  be  dropped:  I  am  here." 

Soon  after  this  Ardis  passed  toward  her  house.  The 
face  of  the  canvas  she  carried  was  turned  toward  Surrey ; 
and  even  at  this  distance  he  could  see  that  a  woodland 
scene  was  beginning  to  appear  upon  it. 

"  There  will  be  a  lot  of  work  on  that  picture  yet,"  he 
said  to  himself.  And  he  looked  up  to  the  sky.  There 
were  no  signs  of  coming  bad  weather. 

WThen  Surrey  reached  home  it  was  past  luncheon  time. 

"Are  you  making  up  apiece  for  the  papers?"  asked 
Prouter.  "  I  knew  a  fellow  who  had  to  write  one  thing  a 
week  for  the  Fligwich  Courier;  and,  by  George!  he  had 
to  slouch  up  and  down  the  Parson's  Mile  for  a  day  or  two 


448  ARDIS  CLAVEKDEN. 

every  week  before  he  got  the  thing  worked  out  in  his 
head!     Is  that  your  lay?  " 

"  Can't  say,"  said  Surrey.  "  I  don't  know  whether  my 
little  job  is  to  be  a  piece  for  the  papers  or  not.  But 
I  think  that  will  be  settled  before  long." 

The  next  day  Surrey  was  not  the  cool  and  self-possessed 
man  that  he  usually  was.  After  he  had  seen  Ardis  pass 
into  the  woods  he  did  not  get  over  the  fence  into  the  field, 
but  remained  on  the  roadside.  For  some  reason  he  seemed 
greatly  to  prefer  the  roadside. 

"  Now,"  said  he  to  himself,  "  I  surely  am  a  fool  if  I  keep 
up  this  sort  of  thing  any  longer!  I  can't  go  lounging 
about  here  without  people  noticing  it.  Prouter  may  won- 
der why  I  always  choose  one  place  to  write  my  piece,  and 
if  he  comes  here  and  sees  her  he  will  put  in  his  oar;  and 
that  will  end  the  business.  I  have  waited  long  enough. 
If  I  do  anything  I  ought  to  do  it  to-day.  But  whether  to 
do  anything  or  not  is  the  point! " 

When  Surrey  had  previously  said  to  himself  that  it 
would  be  an  easy  and  natural  thing  to  drop  in  upon  Ardis 
while  painting  in  the  woods,  he  had  spoken  understand- 
ingly.  He  had  a  great  fancy  for  walking  about  and  ex- 
ploring; and  during  his  prolonged  visit  at  Bald  Hill  he 
had  made  himself  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  sur- 
rounding country. 

He  knew  all  about  this  piece  of  woodland.  He  had 
walked  through  it  often.  He  knew  the  path  that  led  to  it 
from  the  direction  of  the  house,  and  he  knew  also  that  not 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  beyond  the  spot  where  he  took  his 
observations  a  narrow  roadway,  now  unused  and  greatly 
overgrown,  led  from  the  high-road  into  the  heart  of  the 
woods.  At  the  entrance  to  this  road  was  a  gate  which 
was  nailed  up,  but  between  one  of  the  gate  posts  and  the 
next  fence  post  was  a  space,  not  wide  enough  to  admit 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN,  449 

the  passage  of  a  horse  or  cow,  but  through  which  an  ordi- 
nary man  could  pass  with  ease. 

Frequently  had  Surrey,  returning  from  a  walk,  slipped 
through  this  gap  and  taken  the  shady  woodland  road 
toward  the  house.  Now,  what  was  there  to  prevent  him 
from  taking  this  route  through  the  woods  to-day?  He  did 
not  know  exactly  where  Ardis  was  painting,  but  he  could 
not  fail  to  get  sight  of  her.  He  did  not  see  why  anybody 
could  object  to  his  passing  through  those  woods,  nor  why 
anybody  should  imagine  that  he  had  had  the  least  idea 
that  he  should  find  an  artist  at  work  therein.  Simple? 
Why,  nothing  could  be  more  simple  and  ordinary!  If 
her  greeting  should  be  cold,  he  could  pass  on.  If  she  re- 
ceived him  pleasantly,  he  would  stop.  He  would  be  gov- 
erned entirely  by  her  manner. 

"  By  George !  "  he  said  to  himself.  And  then  he  stopped. 
"  But  no.  I  will  walk  slowly  toward  that  gap,  and  when  I 
get  there  I  will  positively  decide." 

Surrey  started  on  his  walk  leisurely  toward  the  point 
where  he  was  to  make  his  decision ;  and  he  had  not  gone 
half  the  distance  when  he  noticed  a  man  coming  down  the 
road  and  approaching  him.  The  man  was  still  at  some 
distance,  but  Surrey  recognized  him.  It  was  Roger  Dun- 
worth. 

Surrey  was  a  little  surprised  to  see  Dunworth  on  foot, 
but  otherwise  his  only  feeling  was  one  of  satisfaction. 
He  had  wanted  to  speak  with  Dunworth  and  had  hoped 
that  he  might  some  time  meet  him  on  the  road.  He 
wished  to  say  to  his  late  antagonist  that,  so  far  as  he  was 
concerned,  by-gones  were  by-gones;  that  he  was  really 
sorry  at  the  turn  events  had  taken  on  account  of  the  duel ; 
and  that  he  had  come  down  here  because  he  liked  the 
country  and  the  people,  and  that  he  had  no  desire  to  inter- 
fere with  anybody's  purposes  or  aims.  On  these  points  he 
29 


450  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

intended  to  dilate  more  or  less  according  to  the  spirit  in 
which  Dunworth  met  him.  It  would  be  an  important 
step  toward  creating  a  friendly  feeling  in  the  neighbor- 
hood if  he  were  to  come  to  a  satisfactory  understanding 
with  Dunworth. 

To  be  sure,  this  was  not  the  time  he  would  have  chosen 
for  the  interview,  but  it  would  do  very  well.  The  deci- 
sion which  he  was  going  to  make  when  he  arrived  at  the 
gap  could  be  postponed  for  a  short  time. 

It  was  indeed  an  unusual  thing  for  Roger  Dunworth  to 
be  seen  afoot.  He  was  a  horseman  by  nature;  and  be- 
ing also  a  busy  man,  he  seldom  wasted  his  time  by  walking 
on  the  roads.  But  this  morning  he  had  been  making  some 
measurements  in  one  of  his  outlying  fields,  and  when  he 
had  finished  he  determined  not  to  go  back  to  the  house, 
but  to  walk  to  Bald  Hill.  He  had  been  very  busy  mak- 
ing plans  and  surveys  of  his  farm,  and  inventories  of  his 
stock  .and  other  property.  He  intended  to  offer  his  place 
for  sale,  and  had  reason  to  believe  that  he  could  easily 
dispose  of  it.  When  this  business  should  be  completed  it 
was  his  purpose  to  buy  in  Georgia  a  large  tract  of  land  which 
he  had  thoroughly  examined  in  his  trip  through  that  region. 

So  far  he  had  not  spoken  of  his  plans  to  any  one,  but 
now  that  they  were  well  perfected,  he  wished  to  make 
them  known  to  his  old  friend  and  the  friend  of  the  family, 
Major  Claverden.  Of  course  this  loyal  Virginian  would 
scout  the  idea  that  it  would  be  for  the  advantage  of  a 
man  to  emigrate  from  this  county  to  Georgia;  but  Dun- 
worth  was  prepared  for  objections,  and  knew  very  well 
that  he  should  not  be  turned  from  his  purpose.  He 
wished  to  explain  the  matter  to  the  major  before  the  lat- 
ter heard  about  it  from  any  one  else;  but  not  until  this 
morning  had  he  been  able  to  bring  his  mind  to  the  point 
of  going  to  Bald  Hill. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  451 

It  would  be  very  hard  for  him  to  go  to  the  house  in 
which  Ardis  lived,  and  he  was  willing  to  postpone  this 
ordeal. as  long  as  possible;  but  Major  Claverden,  as  well 
as  Ardis,  lived  at  Bald  Hill,  and  Roger  did  not  even  con- 
sider the  possibility  of  making  the  radical  change  he  con- 
templated without  seeing  the  major.  Soul-harrowing 
topics  might  be  touched  upon  in  the  interview,  but  this 
could  not  be  helped.  If  possible  he  would  avoid  seeing 
Ardis ;  and  he  believed  she  would  make  it  possible. 

When  Dunworth,  striding  rapidly  along  the  road,  raised 
his  eyes  and  beheld  Surrey  coming  toward  him,  he,  too,  ex- 
perienced a  certain  satisfaction.  He  had  heard  that 
Surrey  was  visiting  Prouter,  and  had  thought  that  if  he 
happened  to  meet  the  man  he  would  say  to  him  that  he 
had  had  no  intention  of  wounding  him  in  the  affair  in  which 
they  had  been  engaged,  and  that,  indeed,  he  had  not 
known,  until  some  time  afterward,  that  Surrey  had  been 
wounded. 

But  as  Surrey  came  nearer  there  was  something  in  the 
expression  of  his  countenance,  something  in  the  jaunty 
manner  of  his  walk,  something  in  the  man's  demeanor 
and  appearance,  which  so  grated  upon  the  soul  of  Dun- 
worth,  and  which  brought  up  so  forcibly  the  recollection 
of_miserable  moments,  that  a  sudden  chill  ran  through 
him.  He  could  not  meet  that  man ;  he  could  not  speak 
to  him;  at  least  not  now — on  his  way  to  Bald  Hill. 

He  was  on  the  point  of  turning  back,  but  at  that  mo- 
ment he  reached  the  gap  by  the  side  of  the  old  gate. 
Without  hesitation  he  turned  and  went  through  the  opening. 
This  was  a  perfectly  natural  thing  to  do.  Surrey  need 
not  suppose  that  he  had  recognized  him ;  nor  could  any 
one  have  reason  to  imagine  that  it  had  not  been  his  original 
intention  to  take  this  path  through  the  woods. 

Dunworth  disappeared  among  the  trees  and  the  heavy 


452 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


undergrowth,  and  Surrey  stopped  as  if  he  had  been 
shot. 

"By  the  Lord  Harry!"  he  exclaimed.  "Here's  a 
pretty  piece  of  business!  Did  he  turn  in  there  because 
he  saw  me?  Hell  walk  straight  upon  her!  Straight  to 
her  he  is  bound  to  go!  Did  I  do  that?  Did  the  sight  of 
me  turn  him  square  around  and  send  him  into  those 
woods? " 

For  some  minutes  Surrey  stood  still  by  the  roadside. 
"Now  am  I  well  paid,"  he  ejaculated,  "for  my  stupid, 
my  asinine  hesitation!  It  is  of  no  use  for  me  to  go  in 
there  now;  and  it  is  ten  thousand  to  one  that  it  will  rain 
to-morrow!  " 

With  this  Surrey  jammed  his  hands  into  his  pockets, 
clinching  his  fists  so  that  his  nails  nearly  punctured  the 
flesh.  Suddenly  he  took  a  resolution.  He  would  go  to 
his  old  point  of  observation,  and  when  he  saw  Dunworth 
come  out  into  the  open  field  he  would  himself  go  into 
those  woods  and  find  Ardis.  Of  what  might  happen  he 
took  no  thought.  He  considered  only  that  after  this 
morning  there  might  be  no  chance  of  finding  her  in  those 
woods. 

With  this  determination  he  went  to  the  spot  from  which 
he  could  command  the  open  space  between  the  wood  and 
Bald  Hill,  and  watched. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  453 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

WHEN  Roger  Dunworth  had  suddenly  turned  aside 
into  the  woods,  his  pace  became  slower.  There 
was  reason  for  this,  for  the  roadway  was  uneven,  and,  be- 
sides, he  was  thinking  in  that  undetermined  way  which 
makes  people  walk  slowly.  His  avoidance  of  Surrey  had 
been  entirely  a  matter  of  impulse,  and  now  he  asked  him- 
self if  this  were  right  and  manly.  It  was  probable  that 
Surrey  had  recognized  him,  and  might  well  suppose  that 
the  animosity  which  occasioned  the  duel  still  continued 
on  Dunworth's  side.  This  was  not  at  all  desired  by  Roger. 
But  he  would  not  turn  back  now.  He  would  go  to  Prou- 
ter's  house  and  see  Surrey.  That  would  be  a  straightfor- 
ward and  satisfactory  thing  to  do. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  Dunworth  stepped  on 
a  little  more  briskly;  but  when  he  had  walked  half  through 
this  piece  of  woodland  he  suddenly  stopped.  The  road- 
way curved  to  the  right  in  the  direction  of  the  Bald  Hill 
house,  but  there  was  a  short  pathway  to  the  left,  and  hap- 
pening to  glance  along  this  to  an  open  space  beyond, 
Dunworth  saw  a  woman's  dress ;  he  saw  a  woman  sitting 
on  a  stool;  he  saw  Ardis  Claverden  painting  in  the  woods. 

Her  back  was  partly  turned  toward  him  and  he  could 
see  a  portion  of  her  side  face.  She  was  sitting  in  the 
shade,  and  her  hat  was  thrown  upon  the  ground.  Her 
hair  seemed  softer  and  more  abundant  than  he  had  ever 
seen  it  before.  She  did  not  wear  the  long  apron  of  the 
studio,  and  her  cool,  fresh  morning  costume  showed 
charmingly  against  the  leafy  background. 


454  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

The  woods  were  very  still.  Some  patches  of  morning 
sunlight  lay  upon  the  ground  behind  Ardis,  and  over  these 
moved  gently  the  shadows  of  high-growing  leaves  and 
twigs  which  caught  the  breeze.  He  stood  and  watched 
every  movement  that  she  made.  All  was  quiet  and  tran- 
quil without,  but  a  great  sea  began  to  roll  in  upon  his  soul ; 
deeper  and  deeper  it  swelled ;  brighter  and  stronger  grew 
its  waves.  Before  him  was  Ardis  Claverden,  the  love  of 
his  life. 

The  sea  rose  higher  and  higher.  Everything  that  had 
been  built  by  her  or  by  him  to  shut  it  out  was  swept  away 
and  carried  out  of  sight.  It  bore  Roger  Dunworth  on  the 
crest  of  its  great  waves.  He  could  not  resist  its  power; 
he  felt  no  desire  to  resist  it. 

Presently  she  leaned  back,  and  with  her  brush  in  one 
hand  and  her  maul-stick  in  the  other,  she  surveyed  her 
work.  Now  Roger  could  see  the  beautiful  profile  of  her 
face,  those  perfect  outlines,  that  little  mouth,  the  Tips  just 
parted  by  the  interest  she  felt  in  the  work  she  was  doing, 
that  delicately-tinted  cheek,  so  smooth  and  tender  to  the 
touch  as  well  he  knew,  that  white  throat  above  the  blos- 
som-colored ribbon — oh,  for  one  look  into  those  dark  eyes 
now  turned  away  from  him!  This  woman  was  his  love! 
By  her  own  confession  she  was  his  love  I 

Roger  stood  still  no  longer,  but  walked  straightway 
into  the  open  space.  Monaco,  who  had  been  sleeping  in 
the  sunlight,  arose  with  a  little  growl,  which  ceased  when 
he  recognized  a  friend  of  the  house.  Ardis  turned 
quickly.  The  appearance  of  any  one  would  have  surprised 
her;  but  now  she  was  truly  startled. 

"  Mr.  Dunworth !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  there  was  in  her 
intonation  a  reproachful  inquiry.  Although  her  words  did 
not  ask  him  why  he  came  there,  her  manner  did. 

Roger  took  no  notice  of  her  words  or  manner.     He 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  455 

stepped  near  her  and  looked  down  into  her  face. 
"  Ardis,"  said  he. 

Now  a  flush  came  into  that  beautiful  face,  and  in  an 
instant  Ardis  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  Mr.  Dunworth,"  she 
said,  "  you  have  no  right  to  speak  to  me  or  to  look  at  me 
in  that  way!  " 

"  I  have  every  right  in  the  world,"  replied  Roger. 

Ardis  now  moved  back  a  step  or  two.  The  flush  left 
her  cheeks  and  temples  and  became  a  bright  light  in  her 
eyes.  "  Mr.  Dunworth,"  she  said,  "you  will  oblige  me  by 
leaving  me.  I  wish  to  be  here  alone." 

Roger  did  not  move  from  where  he  had  been  standing. 
His  eyes  were  steadily  fixed  upon  her.  "  I  will  not  ex- 
plain how  I  came  here,"  he  said.  "  It  is  not  worth  a  word. 
Being  here,  I  shall  speak  to  you.  Without  regard  to  any- 
thing that  I  have  done  or  anything  that  you  have  said,  I 
Avill  tell  you  that  I  love  you  with  a  love  that  cannot  be  set 
aside  by  anything  that  can  come  between  earth  and  sky. 
I  know  that  you  love  me ;  you  have  never  told  me  that 
you  did  not  love  me " 

Ardis  interrupted  him.  "Thank  you,"  she  said,  speak- 
ing quickly.  "  That  is  a  noble  advantage  to  take  of  the 
frankness  and  honesty  with  which  I  spoke  to  you  when 
we  parted!  If  you  did  not  comprehend  my  meaning 
then,  I  will  tell  you  again  that  I  will  not  hear  the  worcls 
you  have  spoken  from  a  man  who  does  not  trust  me.  And 
now  that  you  must  understand  me,  will  you  go?  " 

"  No,"  said  Roger,  "  I  will  not  go.  Nothing  you  can 
say  of  what  I  have  done,  or  of  your  reasons  for  judging 
me,  can  make  me  go.  If  you  tell  me  that  you  do  not 
love  me,  I  will  go." 

"  Is  this  manly?  "  said  Ardis.  "  I  am  not  strong  enough 
to  compel  you  to  go ;  I  can  only  ask  you  to  do  so." 

"  There  is  nothing  strong  enough  to  compel  me  to  go," 


456  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

replied  Roger,  "  but  the  words  which  tell  me  that  you  do 
not  love  me.     Can  you  say  those  words?  " 

The  flush  came  again  into  the  cheeks  of  Ardis.  She 
made  a  step  forward.  "  Roger  Dunworth/'  she  said,  "  is 
there  nothing  on  earth  that  can  make  you  leave  me?  Noth- 
ing that  can  make  you  respect  my  wishes,  my  rights?" 

"  There  is  nothing,"  said  Roger,  "  but  the  words  which 
tell  me  that  you  do  not  love  me." 

Ardis  fixed  her  eyes  upon  him  with  a  straightforward 
gaze.  "  You  have  no  right  to  ask  me  to  say  those  words," 
she  said. 

The  sea  in  the  soul  of  Roger  Dunworth  surged  more 
wildly.  His  breast  heaved.  A  great  light  came  into  his 
eyes.  "Until  you  say  them,  I  will  never  go!  "  he  cried. 

Ardis  still  looked  at  him  steadily.  "  You  will  not  go?  " 
she  said. 

"No,"  was  his  firm  answer. 

"Then  stay!  "  said  Ardis. 

Half  an  hour  afterward  Jack  Surrey,  at  his  post  of  ob- 
servation, saw  two  persons  come  out  of  the  woods  and 
walk  slowly  across  the  open  space  to  the  house.  One  of 
them  was  Ardis  Claverden ;  the  other  was  Dunworth.  In 
one  hand  he  carried  her  canvas,  and  both  her  hands  were 
clasped  round  his  other  arm ;  she  looked  up  into  his  face 
and  he  looked  down  upon  her;  they  knew  not  that  any 
human  eye  was  upon  them,  nor  did  they  care.  They 
walked  on  under  the  fair,  blue  sky,  happier  than  all  the 
•orld. 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry!  "  said  Surrey.  And  he  took  off 
i.is  hat,  and  wiped  his  brow.  He  stood  and  watched  the 
distant  couple.  "Did  I  do  that?"  he  asked  himself. 
Then,  after  along  gaze,  he  turned  and  got  over  the  fence 
into  the  road.  There  he  stopped,  and  again  addressed 
himself.  "  Did  the  sight  of  me  turn  him  into  those  woods? 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  457 

I  believe  it  did!  I  truly  believe  it  did !  "  He  was  almost 
past  the  gap  when  he  stopped  and  turned.  A  grim  smile 
showed  itself  under  his  moustache.  "  So  much  for  that!  " 
he  said,  and  leisurely  walked  toward  Prouter's  house. 

The  proprietor  of  the  establishment  was  standing  in 
the  open  doorway  clad  in  a  white  linen  jacket,  and  placidly 
smoking  a  pipe.  "Hi!"  he  cried,  as  Surrey  came  near. 
"  Back  early  to-day!  How  does  your  piece  come  on?  " 

*'  It  is  finished,"  said  Surrey. 

"Turn  out  all  right?"  asked  Prouter. 

"  That  depends,"  said  Surrey.  "  Some  people  may 
think  it  is  all  right,  and  others  may  have  different  opinions; 
but  I  imagine  it  is  about  as  near  right  as  such  things  gen- 
erally are." 

"  They  never  are  right,"  said  Prouter.  "  What  you  read 
one  day  is  knocked  into  a  cocked  hat  by  what  comes 
along  next  day.  The  whole  lot  is  a  beastly  nuisance." 

Surrey  smiled  and  seated  himself  in  a  wooden  armchair 
which  stood  under  a  small  sassafras  tree  near  the  house, 
the  only  shade-giving  vegetation  on  the  estate. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Prouter,  suddenly  changing  the 
subject  to  arboriculture,  "that  I  have  a  mind  to  go  right 
to  work  and  plant  my  double  row  of  trees  from  the  house 
to  the  road?  When  it  comes  to  that  sort  of  "thing  the 
longer  one  waits  the  worse  it  is  for  him.  You  can  build 
a  house  a  great  deal  faster  than  you  can  make  trees  grow, 
and  it  stands  to  reason  that  you  ought  to  give  good  odds 
to  the  trees.  I'll  make  those  fellows  come  out  of  the 
vineyard  and  dig  the  holes  and  plant  the  trees.  By 
George!  I'll  begin  this  afternoon!  " 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  Surrey,  "  that  Roger  Dunworth 
is  going  to  marry  Miss  Claverden?  " 

Tom  Prouter  stopped  smoking.  His  mouth  opened,  and 
his  face  turned  redder.  "  Who  told  you  that?  "  he  shouted. 


458  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  Nobody,1'  answered  Surrey,  "  I  speak  from  my  own 
knowledge.  They  are  the  most  devotedly  attached  lovers 
I  ever  saw — at  least  in  the  open  air.  If  you  had  seen 
them,  as  I  saw  them  to-day,  walking  across  a  field,  you 
would  not  have  needed  anyone  to  tell  you  that  everything 
is  all  right  now  between  those  two.  Yes,  sir,  they  are  to 
be  married.  There  is  no  possible  doubt  of  that.'' 

Prouter  now  stepped  out  upon  the  very  little  porch  in 
front  of  his  house.  He  threw  his  pipe  upon  the  ground, 
scattering  sparks  in  every  direction.  He  stamped  his 
foot,  he  stretched  out  his  right  arm,  he  shook  his  clenched 
fist  at  Surrey.  "  I'll  be  hanged!  "  he  exclaimed,  "  I'll  be 
doubly  hanged  if  you  don't  ruin  everything  within  ten 
miles  of  you!  You  can't  come  into  a  place  without  mak- 
ing the  very  grass  seeds  rot  in  the  ground  before  you. 
You're  a  blight!  You're  a  plague!  You  are  a  curse- 
creeping  pestilence!  " 

Surrey  took  out  a  cigar  and  proceeded  to  light  it. 
"  What's  the  matter  now?  "  he  said. 

"Matter!"  roared  Prouter.  "Anything  but  a  stone- 
blind  horse-post  would  see  what  is  the  matter!  Every 
day  since  you  have  been  here  I  have  been  intending  to  go 
over  to  see  Miss  Claverden,  but  I  didn't  want  you  hound- 
ing after 'me  to  Bald  Hill,  spoiling  everything  that  you 
touched  or  looked  at ;  and  so  I  thought  I'd  keep  away 
from  there  until  you  had  gone.  I  was  getting  on  vastly 
well  with  her  till  you  came.  And  now,  look  at  it!  I  am 
too  late!  There  is  no  use  going  there  at  all! " 

Surrey  laughed  aloud.  "  Tom  Prouter,"  he  said,  "  don't 
work  yourself  into  a  rage.  Of  course  there  is  no  use  in 
your  going  to  Bald  Hill,  if  Miss  Claverden  is  your  object, 
and  there  never  was,  and  there  never  could  have  been, 
any  use  in  it.  If  you  were  the  only  man  east  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  she  wouldn't  marry  you.  And,  what  is  more, 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  459 

I  don't  believe  she  would  marry  any  man,  east  or  west  of 
the  Rockies,  if  that  man  were  not  Roger  Dunworth.  I 
have  not  been  sure  of  it  all  along,  but  I  am  quite  positive 
now  that  the  break  between  that  worthy  couple  was  not  a 
snap-short.  They  were  bound  to  come  together  again; 
and  fellows  like  you  and  me  had  no  better  chances  in  that 
quarter  than  a  couple  of  Chinese  laundrymen." 

Prouter  did  not  immediately  answer,  but  stood  looking 
steadfastly  at  the  other.  "  Do  you  believe  you  never  had 
any  chance?  "  he  presently  said. 

"  Never  a  ghost  of  one,"  answered  Surrey. 
Prouter's  face  now  began  to  assume  its  ordinary  color. 
"  Now,  really,"  said  he,  "you  do  believe  that,  do  you?  " 
"  Believe  it?  "  said  Surrey,  "  I  am  positively  sure  of  it!  " 
Prouter  came  down  the  few  steps  of  his  porch,  and  picked 
up  the  wooden  pipe  he  had  thrown  from  him.     He  looked 
into  its  black  depths  for  a  moment;  and  then  he  turned 
abruptly  to  Surrey.     "  Look  here,"  said  he,  "  let's  put  some 
things  in  a  bag,  and  go  down  in  my  trap  to  the  lower  end 
of  the  county  and  find  that  nigger  sailor  who  can  cook." 
"  Good!  "  said  Surrey.     "  I  am  your  man!  n 
The  next  morning  the  two  started  for  the  lower  end  of 
the  county.     When,  after  a  devious  journey,  they  arrived 
at  their  destination,  they  found  that  the  negro  in  question 
had  never  been  a  sailor,  and  that  he  could  not  cook. 
They  also  discovered  that  a  year  before  he  had  gone  to 
Iowa  with  a  party  of  negro  emigrants. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  of  their  return,  after  a  late 
supper,  Prouter  was  walking  contemplatively  up  and  down 
the  floor.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do  now?  "  he  said  to 
Surrey. 

"  Do?  "  said  the  other.     "Nothing  in  particular." 
"  I  thought  you'd  be  likely  to  want  to  go  away  from 
here,"  said  his  host. 


460  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  in  the  world  of  going 
away,"  said  Surrey.  "  When  I  first  came  I  felt  that  the 
situation  was  a  little  awkward  for  me,  but  it  is  not  in  the 
least  so  now.  I  intend  to  stay  here,  and  be  as  happy  as 
I  can.  If  you  can  keep  me  I  should  like  it ;  and  we  can 
each  throw  in  our  money  and  make  a  pool  for  expenses. 
But  if  you  don't  fancy  that,  I  can  go  somewhere  else  in 
the  neighborhood.  Now  that  this  Bald  Hill  matter  has 
been  straightened  out  I  feel  free  to  go  where  I  please." 

"Oh,  you  can  stay  here,  if  you  like,"  said  Prouter; 
"  that  is,  if  I  don't  sell  the  beastly  place.  If  I  can't  find 
anybody  to  buy  it,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  have  a  mind  to  do. 
I  am  thinking  of  digging  for  petroleum  on  this  place.  I 
don't  know  that  there  is  a  chance  of  finding  any,  but  one 
never  knows  about  that  sort  of  thing  till  be  tries ;  and  it 
will  give  those  scoundrels  in  the  vineyard  something  to 
do.  It's  of  no  use  for  them  to  work  among  those  grape 
vines,  and  I  have  engaged  them  for  a  year.  I  should  like 
to  see  them  dig  a  hole  so  deep  that  they  could  never  get 
out  of  it." 

"  I  wouldn't  throw  up  the  vineyard  like  that,"  said  Sur- 
rey. "  Something  may  come  of  it." 

"  Come  of  it !  "  exclaimed  Prouter,  stopping  suddenly 
in  his  walk.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  might  come  of  it !  If 
those  lazy  beasts  should  take  to  working  instead  of  sleep- 
ing, and  those  stupid  young  vines  should  take  to  growing 
and  having  grapes  on  them,  and  those  grapes  should  be 
like  the  grapes  on  that  row  of  old  vines  on  the  top  of  the 
illl,  and  wine  should  be  made  of  the  grapes,  there'd  be 
nothing  got  out  of  the  whole  business  but  cramp-colic. 
You  have  tasted  those  grapes.  Now,  really,  you  wouldn't 
drink  wine  made  from  them,  would  you?" 

"  Not  a  drop  of  it,"  said  Surrey.  "  Let's  stick  to  whiskey 
and  water." 

And  Prouter,  going  to  the  closet,  brought  out  the  bottle. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  461 


CHAPTER    XLVI. 

T  TELL  you,  sir,"  said  Major  Claverden,  standing 
1  with  his  back  to  the  empty  fireplace  of  his  library, 
pipe  in  hand,  and  a  shining  joy  on  his  ruddy  countenance, 
"  this  is  truly  living !  Now  I  feel  as  if  my  life  were  a  suc- 
cess. Yes,  sir,  a  success.  I  have  had  my  disappoint- 
ments and  my  losses.  Disappointments  and  losses  are 
perhaps  yet  before  me.  But  what  matters  that,  sir?  Not 
a  whit!  I  have  had  two  great  objects  in  life.  One  of 
them  may  come  to  nothing.  Let  it  be  so !  The  other  is 
accomplished.  My  daughter  will  marry  the  man  of  her 
choice  and  of  my  choice;  the  man  who,  above  all  other 
men,  is  worthy  of  her.  Now  tell  me,  sir,  can  there  be  for 
a  person  of  my  age,  for  the  father  of  a  daughter  like  my 
daughter,  a  greater  earthly  joy  than  this?  " 

Doctor  Lester  was  seated  in  a  leathern  arm-chair,  not 
far  from  the  major.  As  it  was  a  fine  moonlight  evening 
he  had  walked  over  to  Bald  Hill,  and  had  just  been  in- 
formed by  the  master  of  the  house  of  the  blessed  event 
which  had  taken  place  that  morning ;  the  coming  together 
again  of  Ardis  and  Roger.  The  doctor,  too,  held  a  pipe 
in  his  hand ;  he  had  lighted  it,  but  it  was  now  entirely  out. 
He  was  evidently  agitated,  and  for  smoking  purposes  he 
had  no  breath  at  command.  Who  could  help  being  agi- 
tated when  told  of  such  a  happy  event  in  a  family  of  dear 
friends? 

"It  is  true,"  he  said,  "very  true.  Nothing  could  be 
better  than  that." 


462  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 

This  he  said  to  the  major,  and  this  he  also  said  to  him- 
self. What  could  possibly  be  better  than  that? 

The  doctor  had  not  yet  seen  Ardis.  Roger  had  taken 
supper  at  Bald  Hill,  and  he  and  Ardis  had  gone  out  for  a 
walk. 

"As  to  my  other  object  in  life,"  continued  the  major — 
"  at  least  the  object  of  my  recent  years — it  is  one  on  which 
my  heart  has  been  truly  set.  In  endeavoring  to*  produce 
that  to  which  I  would  be  willing  to  give  the  name  of 
'  The  Wine  of  Bald  Hill,'  I  have  most  faithfully  and  ear- 
nestly worked.  Success  in  this  undertaking  in  producing 
a  wine  equal  to  that  brought  from  the  most  celebrated  vine- 
yards of  the  Rhine  would  result  in  a  gift  to  my  family, 
and  to  the  people  of  this  portion  of  the  State,  which  would 
be  an  honor  to  me,  and  an  advantage  and  a  glory  to  them. 
Do  you  not  agree  with  me,  sir?  " 

"  Most  certainly,"  said  the  doctor.  "  Nothing  could  be 
better." 

"  But,"  said  the  major,  "  I  have  strong  reasons  for  be- 
lieving that  there  never  will  be  any  wine  of  Bald  Hill. 
The  vines  upon  which  I  have  lately  depended  for  my  suc- 
cess do  not  give  satisfactory  promise.  They  do  not  as 
nearly  approach  the  mark  at  which  I  am  aiming  as  some 
vines  which  several  years  ago  I  grubbed  up  and  threw 
away.  If  in  the  autumn  the  grapes  which  these  present 
vines  produce — and  it  will  be  their  first  bearing — do  not 
resemble  in  appearance  and  flavor  the  fruit  of  the  Johan- 
nisburger  vineyards,  I  shall  absolutely  and  entirely  relin- 
quish my  attempts  in  this  direction.  But  what  does  it 
matter,  sir?  My  daughter  will  marry  Roger  Dunworth. 
This  is  enough.  I  shall  die  content.  Give  me  your  hand, 
sir.  The  next  best  thing  to  this  great  happiness  itself  is 
the  pleasure  of  speaking  of  it  to  a  friend  like  you." 

The  doctor  arose,  and  took  the  proffered  hand.     "  Noth- 


'ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  463 

ing  could  be  better,"  he  said.  And  then  he  bade  his  host 
good-night. 

"What!"  cried  the  major.  "Will  you  not  wait  and 
congratulate  Ardis?  It  is  yet  very  early.  Those  lovers 
will  return  presently,  I  am  sure." 

But,  in  spite  of  the  urgent  entreaties  of  his  host,  the 
doctor  persisted  in  his  resolution  to  return.  He  was 
somewhat  tired,  and  he  would  come  the  next  day,  or  very 
soon,  and  congratulate  Miss  Ardis.  As  he  shook  the 
major's  hand  in  parting,  he  said:  "  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
so  happy.  And,  truly,  nothing  could  be  better!  " 

All  the  way  home — and  he  took  a  cross  country  route 
on  which  he  would  not  be  likely  to  meet  anybody — Doctor 
Lester  said  to  himself  over  and  over  again:  "It  is  per- 
fectly satisfactory.  It  is  just  what  ought  to  have  hap- 
pened. It  suits  everybody.  Nothing  could  be  better." 
And  even  after  he  had  got  home  and  had  gone  to  bed 
he  continued  to  say  these  things  to  himself.  He  posi- 
tively convinced  himself  over  and  over  again  that  noth- 
ing could  be  better.  In  fact  he  made  this  conviction  so 
strong  that  he  did  not  sleep  until  the  morning  began  to 
break. 

It  was  two  days  after  this  that  Ardis,  riding  on  the  high 
road,  met  Doctor  Lester.  She  instantly  brought  Janet  to 
a  stop. 

"Doctor,"  she  exclaimed!  "you  are  a  recreant  friend! 
I  never  should  have  supposed  it  possible  that  you  would 
have  allowed  all  this  time  to  pass  without  coming  to  talk 
with  me  about  what  has  happened ;  a  thing  in  which  you 
once  took  such  a  lively  and  generous  interest.  Have  you 
not  been  \yell?  " 

The  doctor  answered  that  he  had  not  been  well.  He 
had  been  intending  to  go  to  Bald  Hill,  and  he  was  very 
sorry  that  he  had  not  gone.  He  would  be  there  very  soon. 


464  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

But  it  surely  was  not  necessary  for  him  to  tell  Miss  Ardis 
how  happy  he  was  in  all  that  gave  her  happiness. 

"  Particularly  in  this  one  thing,"  she  said.  "  I  want 
everybody  to  be  happier  than  they  ever  were  before  be- 
cause I  am  going  to  marry  Roger.  And,  by-the-way, 
doctor,  why  do  you  always  walk  nowadays?  Is  anything 
the  matter  with  Cream-o'-Tartar?  " 

"Oh,  no,  no,''  the  doctor  answered  quickly,  "there  is 
nothing  at  all  the  matter  with  him.  I  prefer  to  walk.  It 
does  me  good." 

Ardis  shook  her  head.  "  I  am  not  sure  of  that,"  she 
said.  "  I  think  you  were  better  when  you  rode  more." 

And  then,  when  she  took  her  leave  and  was  cantering 
away,  she  said  to  herself:  "  I  must  not  forget  his  slippers. 
They  must  be  finished  by  his  birthday." 

The  work  at  the  Dunworth  farm — and  there  was  always 
plenty  of  it — now  began  to  add  to  itself  branches  which 
had  not  been  seen  there  for  many  years.  Everything  in 
the  way  of  surveying  and  inventories  was  stopped,  and 
in  the  mind  of  the  owner  of  the  estate  Northern  Georgia 
faded  away  until  it  became  like  an  unnoticed  speck  on 
the  horizon.  It  had  been  settled  that  he  and  Ardis  were 
to  marry  at  the  end  of  August,  and  his  house  was  to  be 
prepared  for  the  reception  of  a  mistress,  the  first  it  had 
had  since  the  death  of  his  mother  when  he  was  a  little  boy. 

Paper-hanging,  painting,  carpenter  work,  lawn-renovat- 
ing, and  all  that  sort  of  thing,  made  the  place  lively  and 
gave  many  subjects  for  evening  conversation  to  Par- 
chester,  Skitt,  and  Cruppledean.  Of  late  these  three  had 
been  thrown  a  good  deal  upon  their  own  resources  for 
social  pleasures.  Since  his  return  from  the  South,  Dun 
worth  had  for  the  larger  part  of  the  time  been  occupied 
in  his  only  spare  moments  with  his  schemes  and  plans  for 
a  change  of  residence ;  and  since  the  day  of  his  intrusion 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEtf.  465 

into  a  woodland  studio  he  had  spent  every  evening  at 
Bald  Hill. 

Tom  Prouter,  too,  had,  in  a  measure,  neglected  his 
compatriots.  He  had,  it  is  true,  occasionally  looked  in 
upon  them  of  a  morning,  but  this  was  not  very  satisfac- 
tory to  these  students  of  husbandry;  especially  when  they 
were  at  work  at  different  places  on  the  farm.  They  re- 
membered with  regret  the  jolly  evenings  they  used  to 
have  with  Prouter  before  that  tiresome  fellow  with  a  big 
moustache  came  to  stay  with  him. 

"Now,  really,"  said  Skitt,  one  evening,  as  the  three 
Englishmen  sat  on  the  piazza  with  their  pipes,  "  I  can't 
see  any  reason  why  Tom  Prouter  should  stick  so  closely 
to  that  man.  Do  you?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  said  Parchester.  "  I  see  plenty  of 
reasons  why  he  should  try  to  get  away  from  him,  but  none 
why  he  should  stick  to  him.  I  never  saw  anything  like 
it!  Tom  is  never  really  satisfied  unless  he  has  Surrey 
somewhere  in  sight." 

".Do  you  know,"  said  Cruppledean,  knocking  the  ashes 
out  of  his  pipe,  and  preparing  to  refill  it,  "  I've  been  think- 
ing lately  that  fellows  oughtn't  to  be  too  hard  on  a  fool, 
because  it's  about  five  to  one  he  can't  help  it.  If  he  gets 
himself  shunted  on  a  side-track  he's  got  to  go  where  the 
side-track  goes.*' 

"  He  ought  not  to  get  himself  shunted,"  said  Skitt. 
"  He  ought  to  keep  on  the  main  line." 

"  It's  beastly  easy  to  talk,"  said  Cruppledean,  "  and  I 
say  let  the  fools  go !  If  they  get  smashed  up  it's  their 
affair!  Other  people  can  look  out  for  themselves.  I  am 
going  to  look  out  for  myself." 

"  How  do  you  propose  to  do  that?  "  asked  Parchester. 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  here,"  said  Cruppledean.  "  It  is 
all  very  well  while  we  are  independent,  and  can  act  like 
3° 


466  ARDIS  CLA 

men ;  but  when  a  petticoat  gets  into  the  house  I  say  it  is 
time  to  go." 

"It  depends  a  good  deal,"  said  Parchester  quickly, 
"  upon  who  wears  the  petticoat.1' 

"  Now  hear  him!  "  cried  Skitt.  "  I'll  wager  a  sovereign 
to  a  ha'penny  that  Parchester  will  want  to  stay  here  until 
he  has  learned  all  that  anybody  can  teach  him  about  Vir- 
ginia farming;  and,  after  that,  he  will  want  to  stay  on  and 
learn  how  to  disport  himself  as  a  husband  and  head  of  a 
family." 

"  You  mean  by  that,"  said  Cruppledean,  "  that  he  has 
been  hit?" 

"  Hit !  "  replied  Skitt.  "  Of  course  he  has !  She  is  like 
a  Gatling  gun ;  she  hits  all  around." 

"  No  she  don't,"  said  Cruppledean.  "  She  didn't  hit  me." 

"  Look  here ! "  said  Parchester  turning  upon  his  com- 
panions. "You  two  may  as  well  shut  up  on  that  sub- 
ject. I  am  going  to  stay  here  because  it  always  has  suited 
me,  and  because  I  think  it  will  suit  me  a  great  deal  better 
when  the  house  is  kept  in  as  good  order  as  the  farm  is." 

"  Hear  him !  "  cried  Skitt.  "  How  necessary  is  the  re- 
fining influence  of  the  sex  to  the  happiness  of  the  gentle- 
man in  cow-hide  boots !  " 

"I  don't  mind  saying,"  said  Parchester,  "that  I  go  in 
for  the  sex.  But,  as  I  just  now  said,  everything  de- 
pends upon  who  wears  the  petticoat.  Now,  if  Miss  Air- 
penny  were  to  be  planted  here  as  mistress  of  the  house,  I 
vow  I  would  leave." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say,"  cried  Cruppledean,  "that 
Dunworth  ever  had  any  idea  of  marrying  Miss  Airpenny?  " 

His  companions  burst  out  laughing.  "  Get  away  with 
you!"  cried  Skitt.  "No  wonder  you  never  were  hit! 
Your  rhinoceros  hide  is  so  thick  that  you  wouldn't  know 
it  if  a  dozen  balls  struck  you  1 " 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  467 


CHAPTER   XLVII. 

IN  these  summer  days  Major  Claverden,  his  daughter, 
and  Roger  Dunworth  considered  themselves  the  three 
happiest  people  in  the  world.  They  were  happy  because 
of  the  positive  good  which  had  come  to  them,  and  happier 
still  because  this  good  had  come  to  them  after  they  had 
convinced  themselves  that  it  was  forever  shut  away  from 
them. 

Their  friends  were  also  happy ;  and  many  came  to  tell 
them  so.  It  struck  Jack  Surrey  that  he  should  like  to  be 
one  of  these.  But,  after  giving  the  matter  a  good  deal  of 
consideration,  he  concluded  that  if  he  had  any  idea  what- 
ever of  settling  in  that  part  of  the  world,  and  wished  to 
make  friends  of  his  neighbors,  it  would  be  well  to  allow 
the  Claverdens  and  Dunworth  the  opportunity  of  making 
the  first  approaches  to  a  renewal  of  acquaintance  with 
him.  They  had  done  nothing  of  the  kind  so  far ;  even 
the  major,  who  once  had  seemed  like  an  old  friend  to  him, 
now  appeared  to  be  unaware  of  his  presence  in  the  county. 
Yes,  he  would  wait  and  see  what  the  changed  conditions 
of  things  would  bring  about  in  regard  to  himself. 

In  the  mean  time  there  could  be  no  possible  harm  in 
occasionally  discussing  the  subject  with  mutual  friends, 
and,  with  this  purpose  in  view  he,  one  evening,  walked  up 
to  Heatheiley  to  call  on  Miss  Norma  Cranton. 

The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  demand  of  that  young 
lady  a  certain  amount  of  gratitude  for  having  obeyed  her 
wishes  by  keeping  aloof  from  Miss  Claverden  and  Dun- 
worth.  "  I  do  not  know,"  he  said,  "  that  my  turning  my 


468  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

back  on  them  had  anything  to  do  with  what  has  happened. 
But  I  did  turn  my  back;  their  engagement  is  renewed; 
everybody  is  satisfied;  and  even  if  I  played  a  negative 
part  in  the  matter  I  think  I  deserve  some  credit." 

"  Yes,  negative  credit,"  said  Norma. 

Surrey  arose,  walked  to  the  window,  took  a  look  at  the 
back  yard,  and  then  returned  to  Norma.  "  Miss  Cranton," 
said  he, "  it  strikes  me  that  I  am.  really,  a  rather  deserving 
sort  of  person.  I  came  down  here  to  serve  my  own  pur- 
poses. Every  man  has  a  right  to  do  that.  I  failed  in 
those  purposes.  In  fact  I  am  willing  to  admit  that  I  made 
a  doleful  mess  of  it.  But  all  that  being  passed  and  gone, 
I  think  some  attention  should  be  given  to  the  steadfast 
way  in  which  I  have  kept  out  of  the  affair  ever  since." 

"  Well,"  said  Norma,  "  that  noble  conduct  may  deserve 
some  sort  of  recognition.  What  sort  would  you  like?  " 

"  I  will  tell  you,"  said  Surrey,  quickly,  "  exactly  what 
sort  I  would  like.  I  would  like  that  everybody  in  this 
neighborhood  should  totally,  absolutely,  utterly,  entirely, 
and  completely  forget  that  I  had  ever  anything  to  do  with 
the  Dunworth-Claverden  combination,  and  that  they  should 
take  me  as  I  am;  an  honest-hearted  man  coming  here 
with  the  notion  of  making  this  region  his  home ;  intend- 
ing, it  may  be,  to  go  into  partnership  with  Prouter  or 
somebody  else ;  and  desiring  to  be  on  good  terms  with  the 
surrounding  population.  Now  that  isn't  much  to  ask  in 
the  way  of  gratitude,  is  it?  " 

"  No,"  said  Norma.  "  I  think  I  might  manage  to  give 
you  that  much  myself.  But,  really,  Mr.  Surrey,  you  must 
excuse  me  if  I  leave  you  for  a  few  minutes.  I  see  that  a 
hen  out  there  with  a  late  brood  of  chickens  has  broken 
through  the  coop  and  she  will  lead  her  young  family  into 
all  sorts  of  dangers.  I  must  go  and  drive  her  back  and 
get  somebody  to  mend  the  coop." 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEK.  469 

"  Let  me  mend  the  coop !  "  cried  Jack  Surrey. 

"  You !  "  said  Norma,  with  a  laugh.  "  What  does  a  city 
man  know  about  hen  coops?  " 

"  I  should  be  ashamed  to  come  from  a  city,"  said  Sur- 
rey, "where  coop  mending  was  not  thoroughly  taught." 

In  ten  minutes  after  that  Surrey,  with  hammer  and 
nails  which  Norma  had  brought  to  him,  had  fastened  the 
loose  bars  of  the  coop ;  and,  together,  he  and  Norma  had 
slowly  and  warily  driven  the  hen  and  her  tender  brood 
back  to  their  quarters. 

Ardis  continued  to  work  on  her  picture,  and  when  it 
was  finished,  and  not  until  then,  she  showed  it  to  Roger, 
lie  was  not  a  bad  judge  of  pictures. 

"  I  believe,"  he  said,  "  that  is  the  very  best  thing  you 
have  ever  done." 

"  I  am  somewhat  of  that  opinion  myself,"  said  she.  "At 
any  rate  I  am  better  satisfied  with  it  than  I  generally  am 
with  my  work.  But  there  is  something  very  odd  about 
this  picture.  It  is  exactly  the  opposite  of  what  it  was  in- 
tended to  be.  I  had  fixed  upon  a  title  for  it.  It  was  to 
be  called :  '  Without  a  Man.'  But,  as  a  man,  without  in- 
vitation or  permission,  forced  himself  in  upon  this  lovely 
scene,  I  have  let  him  stay  and  he  has  altered  its  whole 
purport.  How  do  you  like  the  figure?  " 

Roger  steadfastly  observed  the  man  in  the  landscape. 
"  I  do  not  know,"  he  said,  "  how  I  appear  to  the  world, 
but  I  know  very  well  how  the  world  would  appear  to  me 
if  I  had  not  appeared  in  that  scene." 

In  spite  of  the  busy  condition  of  affairs  at  his  farm 
Roger  Dunworth  found  time  to  take  frequent  rides  with 
Ardis.  As  they  were  cantering  along  an  oak-shad<3wed 
road  one  pleasant  afternoon  they  met  Bonetti,  also  rid- 
ing. Ardis  instantly  reined  up  Janet  and  the  others  also 
stopped. 


470  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  Mr.  Bonetti !  "  exclaimed  Ardis.  "  I  am  so  glad  to 
see  dear  old  Cream-o'-Tartar  again!  Why  doesn't  the 
doctor  ride  him  now?  Has  he  lent  him  to  you?" 

"The  doctor  doesn't  happen  to  own  him  at  present," 
said  Bonetti.  "  He  belongs,  in  fact,  to  me." 

"To  you?"  exclaimed  Ardis. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bonetti,  "  I  got  him  in  trade  from  a  man 
on  the  other  side  of  Bolton." 

"And  how  did  the  man  beyond  Bolton  happen  to  have 
him?  "  asked  Ardis,  in  a  tone  of  excited  interest. 

"  The  doctor  sold  the  horse  to  him  some  time  ago.  Let 
me  see.  It  was  just  before  he  made  that  trip  down  to 
Georgia.  I  reckon  he  was  a  little  short  of  cash  about  that 
time.  It  wasn't  a  bad  piece  of  business,"  continued 
Bonetti.  "  The  doctor  got  his  money,  and  the  man,  hav- 
ing got  the  horse  cheap,  could  afford  to  let  me  have  him 
on  an  easy  trade — days'  work  being  a  good  part  of  it — 
and  now  I've  got  the  horse.  I  really  needed  a  horse,  and 
it  isn't  every  day  you  can  make  such  a  bargain  for  one." 

"  Mr.  Bonetti,"  said  Ardis  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  will 
you  come  to  Bald  Hill  to-night?  I  want  to  see  you  on 
business.'1 

"Certainly,  certainly,  Miss  Ardis,"  said  Bonetti,  and 
then  he  took  his  leave. 

"  For  the  life  of  me,"  said  Roger,  as  the  two  rode  on, 
"  I  do  not  see  how  Doctor  Lester  ever  brought  himself  to 
the  point  of  selling  that  horse !  For  years  the  two  have 
been  the  most  constant  friends.  No  matter  how  much 
he  needed  money  I  should  have  supposed  he  would  have 
sold  anything  he  possessed  rather  than  old  Cream-o'- 
Tartar!" 

"Perhaps  he  had  nothing  else  to  sell,"  said  Ardis.  And 
there  she  let  the  subject  drop. 

Ardis  was  perfectly  trustworthy  when  a  friend  told  her 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  471 

a  secret ;  she  was  equally  trustworthy  when  she  discov- 
ered the  secret  of  a  friend.  She  had  not  discovered  the 
doctor's  most  important  secret ;  but  she  had  discovered  that 
he  had  sold  his  horse  to  enable  him  to  accompany  her  to 
Georgia. 

The  slippers  for  the  doctor  were  never  finished;  but 
when  his  birthday  arrived  he  received  as  a  present  his 
good  old  Cream-o'-Tartar. 


472  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII. 

ONE  afternoon,  about  this  time,  Jack  Surrey  visited 
Heatherley.  He  had  been  there  a  great  deal  of 
late,  on  the  general  principle  that,  after  Bald  Hill,  it  was 
the  pleasantest  house  in  the  neighborhood  to  visit.  But 
now  he  went  with  a  definite  object.  He  was  going  to 
offer  himself  in  marriage  to  Norma  Cranton. 

For  some  time  he  had  had  this  matter  in  his  mind,  and 
he  had  lately  convinced  himself,  with  very  little  trouble, 
that  to  marry  Miss  Cranton  would  be  a  very  good  thing 
for  him  to  do.  Norma,  in  some  respects,  was  an  odd  kind 
of  young  woman,  but  this  oddity  interested  him.  She 
was  lively  and  good-humored,  and  had  plenty  of  sound, 
practical  sense.  More  than  that,  she  was  good-looking. 
Jack  Surrey  had  not  noticed  that  on  his  first  acquaintance 
with  her,  but  it  had  gradually  dawned  upon  him.  Her 
family  connections  and  her  domestic  position  suited  him 
very  well ;  and  he  thought,  with  considerable  satisfaction, 
that  a  marriage  with  her  would  be  a  direct  and  immediate 
advantage  to  his  own  social  position.  At  present  this 
was,  of  course,  unsatisfactory.  A  good  many  people,  es- 
pecially the  Bald  Hill  people,  did  not  appear  to  recognize 
the  fact  that  he  was  residing  in  their  midst ;  and  as  such 
a  fact  hitherto  had  been  very  generally  recognized  by 
people  in  whose  midst  he  happened  to  be,  the  change  ap- 
peared to  him  not  only  disadvantageous  but  disagreeable. 
As  the  son-in-law  of  the  Cranton  family,  or  even  its  pro- 
spective son-in-law,  he  might  expect  to  be  received  every- 
where. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  473 

As  Jack  walked  briskly  toward  Heatherley  he  was  in 
very  good  spirits.  He  wore  a  light  summer  suit  and  a 
straw  hat ;  and  these  became  him,  and  he  knew  it.  He 
was  going  to  do  a  pleasant  thing,  and  that  pleased  him. 
He  had  no  notion  that  there  could  be  any  other  issue 
to  the  business  in  hand  than  that  he  considered  desirable. 
The  love  affair  immediately  preceding  this  one  had  indeed 
>een  full  of  difficulties;  but  that  there  should  be  any 
difficulties  in  the  present  case  did  not  even  occur  to  him. 

When  he  reached  the  house  he  found  there  a  party  of 
aunts  and  cousins  who  had  come  to  spend  the  day. 
Ncrma  was  in  her  glory.  With  the  most  hospitable  in- 
tentions and  with  an  unremitting  flow  of  lively  speech  she 
was  making  her  guests  happy  in  body  and  mind. 

Mr.  Surrey  was  cordially  welcomed,  and  presented  to 
the  company,  on  whom  he  made  a  very  favorable  impres- 
sion. He  was  so  bright  and  lively,  and  became  acquainted 
with  every  one  so  easily  and  quickly,  that  there  was  a 
general  expression  of  disapprobation  when,  after  half  an 
hour's  visit,  he  rose  to  go.  He  declined  the  most  press- 
ing invitations  to  stay  to  dinner ;  but  when  he  had  taken 
his  leave  and  had  gone  into  the  hall,  he  turned  back  to 
the  parlor  door  and  asked  Miss  Cranton  if  he  might  speak 
with  her  a  moment. 

"Certainly,"  said  Norma;  and  as  soon  as  she  could 
finish  what  she  was  saying  to  her  cousin,  she  followed  him 
to  the  piazza. 

"  Now,"  said  she  to  herself  as  she  went  out,  "  if  he  has 
come  for  advice  about  putting  up  fruit  or  vegetables  I 
shall  tell  him  that  he  and  Mr.  Prouter  would  better  drop 
hat  thing  at  once.  Men  can't  do  that  sort  of  housekeep- 
ing; they'd  lose  every  cent  they  put  in  sugar  and  spices. 
Well,  Mr.  Surrey,  what  is  it?" 

"  Miss  Cranton,"  said  Surrey,  speaking  in  a  low  voice, 


474  ARDIS  Cl.AVERDEN*. 

"  I  came  here  to-day  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you  devotedly, 
and  to  ask  to  you  to  marry  me." 

If  one  of  the  oaks  on  the  lawn  had  suddenly  raised 
itself  on  the  tips  of  its  roots,  and  turned  a  summersault 
before  her,  Norma  could  not  have  been  more  thoroughly 
astounded.  Her  eyes  opened  to  the  widest,  she  held 
her  breath. 

"  Now,  not  one  word  of  reply,  Miss  Cranton,  I  beg  of 
you,"  said  Surrey.  "  I  wish  you  to  have  time  to  think  of 
what  I  have  said.  I  will  come  to-morrow  morning  to  hear 
your  answer.  Good-by." 

Jack  Surrey  went  away  in  a  more  cheerful  mood  than 
that  in  which  he  had  come.  "  That  is  good  business !  " 
he  said  to  himself.  "  I  put  in  that  shot  sharp  and  deep. 
There  was  no  dodging  it,  no  warding  it  off.  It  was  not 
the  way  I  intended  to  do  it,  but  I  am  not  sure  it  was  not 
better  than  any  other  way." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  said  Prouter  to  Surrey  the 
next  morning.  "  Really,  it  looks  to  me  as  if  you  were 
always  going  off  by  yourself,  nowadays." 

Surrey  smiled.  "  The  fact  is,"  said  he,  "  I  have  a  little 
piece  of  business  to  attend  to  this  morning.  But  after  I 
get  through  with  that  I  am  at  your  service  to  do  anything 
you  like.  What  do  you  say  to  a  coon  hunt  to-night? 
You  have  been  promising  me  one  ever  since  I  have  been 
here." 

Prouter1  s  eyes  sparkled.  "By  George!"  he  cried, 
"we'll  do  it!  Do  you  want  the  trap?  " 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Surrey,  "  I  can  easily  walk  where 
I  am  going." 

"All  right!"  cried  Prouter.  "I'll  harness  up  this  min- 
ute, and  go  round  the  country  and  get  together  all  the 
coon  dogs  I  can  find.  I'll  bring  them  home  in  the  dog 
cart,  and  have  them  ready  for  to  night." 


ARDIS  CLAVE RDEN.  475 

Surrey  laughed.  "  I  don't  envy  you  your  drive,  with 
half  a  dozen  curs,  all  strangers  to  each  other,  in  the  cart 
with  you.  But  every  man  to  his  taste.  Good  luck  to 
you!  "  And  he  left  the  house. 

"  Look  here!  "  cried  Prouter,  suddenly  springing  to  the 
door.  "Are  you  thinking  of  investing  in  land?  " 

Surrey  stopped.  "  I  really  can't  say  that  that  is  what  I 
am  about  to  do,"  he  answered. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Prouter.     "  Don't  you  do  anything 
of  that  kind  until  you  have  had  a  talk  with  me.     I  may  • 
want  to  sell  this  shanty  and  colic-patch." 

"  I'll  remember  you,"  said  Surrey;  and  he  merrily  went 
his  way. 

Norma  Cranton  did  not  immediately  present  herself  in 
the  parlor  where  Surrey  awaited  her ;  and  when  at  last 
she  appeared  she  carried  a  thin  book  in  her  hand,  and  on 
her  face  was  an  expression  which  seemed  compounded  of 
severity  of  moral  principle,  and  an  anxiousness  resembling 
that  frequently  occasioned  by  jelly  making.  She  did  not 
appear  to  notice  the  hand  which  Surrey  held  out  to  her, 
and  sat  down  in  a  chair  near  the  door.  Surrey  stepped 
forward,  gently  closed  the  door,  and  seated  himself  near 
her. 

"  Miss  Cranton,"  he  said,  "  I  have  come  to  ask  for  an 
answer  to  what  I  said  to  you  yesterday.  I  have  come, 
too,  to  say  a  great  deal  more  than  I  had  an  opportunity 
to  say  in  those  few  moments.  I  have  come  to  implore 
you  to  be  my  wife;  to  accept  the  warm,  earnest  love 
of " 

C'A  man  who  has  had  a  good  deal  of  practice  in  that 
sort  of  thing,"  said  Norma,  who  under  no  circumstances 
restrained  herself  from  her  habit  of  finishing  people's 
sentences  for  them.  "  But  before  you  go  any  further, 
Mr.  Surrey,"  she  said,  handing  him  the  book  which  she 


476  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

opened  at  the  pages  between  which  her  forefinger  had 
been  inserted,  "  I  should  like  you  to  read  that  line."  And 
she  pointed  to  it. 

"Poems?"'  said  Surrey. 

"Yes,  poems,"  answered  Norma.     Surrey  read: 

"  Once  only  Love,  can  Love's  sweet  song  be  sung." 

He  let  the  book  drop  on  his  knee  and  looked  at  her. 
"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  "  that  I  think  that  is  most  un- 
mitigated bosh!" 

"I  have  a  very  different  opinion,"  said  Norma.  "I 
think  it  is  truth;  the  eternal  truth  of  ages." 

"It  is  eternal  stuff  and  nonsense,"  said  Surrey.  "I 
know  very  well  that  this  refers  to  my  having  been  married 
before." 

"  You  cannot  have  been  married  before,"  said  Norma, 
"  unless  you  marry  again." 

"  That  is  what  I  want  to  do,"  said  Surrey. 

"  It  is  what  you  ought  not  to  think  of,"  said  she. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  exclaimed  Surrey,  "I  beg  that 
you  will  banish  that  most  perverting  idea  from  your  mind ! 
It  is  true,  I  loved ;  I  married.  My  wife  died  years  ago. 
Again  I  loved." 

"  Yes,"  said  Norma.     "And  that  time  Miss  Claverden." 

"I  declare,"  said  Surrey,  "this  is  too  bad!  Do  you 
intend  to  go  back  and  probe  up  everything  I  have  done 
in  my  whole  life?  " 

"  I  would  do  so  if  I  could,"  replied  Norma.  "  I  would 
mention  the  name  of  every  woman  you  have  been  in  love 
with." 

"  There  are  no  more,"  said  Surrey.  "  You  have  men- 
tioned them  all  except  yourself.  Now  I  am  perfectly 
willing  to  admit  that  I  was  in  love  with  Miss  Claverden. 
She  declined  to  return  my  affection;  and  there  was  an 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEiV.  477 

end  of  it.  My  heart  became  perfectly  free.  I  turned  to 
you." 

Norma  closed  the  book,  which  he  had  handed  back  to 
her.  "I  have  no  suitable  words,"  she  said,  "in  which  to 
express  my  dislike  of  that  sort  of  grasshopper  affection 
which  skips  from  here  to  there  whenever  it  pleases." 

"  Mine  is  not  that  kind,"  said  Surrey,  "  and  if  it  skips 
at  alt  it  skips  from  there  to  here.  And  here  it  shall  stay, 
I  vow,  as  long  as  you  allow  it  !  " 

"  I  have  never  allowed  it  at  all,"  said  Norma. 

Surrey  made  no  answer  to  this  remark.  He  gazed 
steadfastly  at  her.  "  Miss  Cranton,"  he  exclaimed,  "  that 
once  only  business  is  all  wrong.  But  if  you  believe  in  it,  let 
me  love  you  once  only — once  for  all — now  and  forever!  " 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  quick  step  on  the  piazza 
outside,  and  some  one  looked  in  through  an  open  French 
window.  It  was  Tom  Prouter. 

"  Miss  Cranton,"  he  cried,  "  do  you  know  if  there  are  any 
coon  dogs  on  this  place?  "  And  then  perceiving  Surrey, 
who  had  hastily  pushed  back  his  chair,  he  exclaimed  in  a 
vexed  tone:  "Did  you  come  here  after  them?  Now, 
really,  it  wasn't  any  use.  You  can't  lead  that  sort  of  dog 
with  a  string  or  a  chain.  You've  got  to  fetch  them  in  a 
cart.  I  told  you  I'd  attend  to  it." 

Norma  arose,  very  red  in  the  face,  but  this  was  not 
noticed  by  Prouter,  whose  attention  was  now  given  to 
Surrey.  "  I  don't  know,  Mr.  Prouter,"  she  said.  "  I  will 
go  and  see  if  one  of  the  men  is  about  the  house." 

When  she  had  left  the  room,  Surrey  turned  to  Prouter. 
"Do  you  know  what  you  have  done?"  said  he.  "You 
have  interrupted  me  at  a  most  critical  moment.  I  was 
proposing  marriage  to  Miss  Cranton." 

Tom  Prouter  gave  vent  to  a  long  ejaculation.  "  Do 
you  call  that  fair  and  square?  "  he  said. 


478  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

"  Of  course  it  is,"  said  Surrey.  "  What  is  the  matter 
with  it?" 

"I  like  that,  you  know!"  said  Prouter.  "You  seem 
to  have  forgotten  what  you  said  to  me  this  morning.  She 
wouldn't  be  willing  to  come  to  my  place  to  live." 

"Look  here,  Tom  Prouter,"  said  Surrey,  hurriedly, 
"  there  is  no  time  for  any  of  that  talk.  This  is  my  busi- 
ness, and  it  will  not  interfere  in  the  least  with  yours.  She 
may  be  back  any  minute,  and  I  want  you  to  get  away  as 
fast  as  you  can.  Now  you  go  down  to  the  barn  and  wait 
there  until  somebody  comes  to  talk  to  you  about  the  dogs ; 
and  don't  come  back  to  the  house  till  I  give  you  the  word." 

"How  long  do  you  suppose  it  will  take  you?"  asked 
Prouter. 

"Get  away!"  said  Surrey.  "I  can't  put  a  time  and 
limit  to  that  sort  of  thing.  Trot  now!  Quick!" 

Left  to  himself  in  the  parlor,  Surrey  walked  up  and 
down  the  floor  for  a  few  minutes,  but  Norma  did  not  re- 
turn. Then  he  went  out  on  the  piazza,  and  tramped  up 
and  down  there  for  awhile.  This  was  certainly  very  an- 
noying. Of  all  the  moments  for  a  man  to  come  in  and 
inquire  about  coon  dogs!  He  went  down  on  the  grass 
and  walked  nearly  around  the  house  looking  up  at  the 
windows.  But  he  saw  no  Norma.  Returning  to  the 
front  he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  piazza,  and  at  the  top 
he  saw  a  bare-legged  colored  girl  with  a  broom.  She  stood 
still  and  looked  at  him.  She  had  never  seen  him  before, 
and  supposed  that  he  had  just  arrived  at  the  house. 

"Where  is  Miss  Cranton?"  asked  Surrey. 

"  Miss  Norma?  "  said  the  girl.  "  Dunno.  I  reckon  she 
up-stairs." 

"  Well  go  up  and  tell  her — tell  her  a  man  wants  to  see 
her."  Surrey  perceived  that  he  was  a  stranger  to  the 
girl,  and  thought  this  message  politic. 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  479 

The  girl  departed  and  soon  returned.  "  Miss  Norma 
say  she  can't  come  down  jus'  now.  Ef  you'll  tell  me  what 
you  want  I  reckon  she'd  send  you  some  sort  o'  word." 

"What  is  she  so  busy  about?"  asked  Surrey. 

"  Dunno  'zactly,"  answered  the  girl.  "  Reckon  she  got 
a  piece  o'  glass  in  her  eye." 

"  Glass  in  her  eye?  "  exclaimed  Surrey. 

"  Well,  I  s'pects  it's  glass,"  said  the  girl,  "  or  p'raps  it's 
a  bit  o'  oat  chaff,  or  a  piece  o'  yarn.  Anyway  she  swob- 
bin'  it  like  everything." 

"  Well,  you  go  up  and  tell  her,"  said  Surrey,  "  that  I 
can't  wait  and  I  can't  send  any  message.  I  want  her/' 

So  the  black  messenger  went  up-stairs  and  informed 
Norma  that  the  man  down-stairs  wanted  her.  "  I  reckon 
you  better  go  down,  an'  sen'  him  off,  Miss  Norma,"  said 
the  girl,  "  an'  when  you  come  back  I'll  help  you  git  dat 
trash  outer  you  eye.  He  look  like  one  ob  dem  pussons 
dat  neber  will  go  'way  till  dey  see  de  mistis." 

A  few  minutes  afterward  the  girl  informed  the  impa- 
tient Surrey  that  Miss  Norma  would  be  down  presently. 

Surrey  went  into  the  parlor  and  immediately  closed  the 
window  opening  upon  the  piazza,  causing  the  girl  to  im- 
agine that  he  was  very  much  afraid  of  draughts.  He 
walked  up  and  down  until  the  piazza  had  been  swept  and 
the  sweeper  had  departed,  very  much  to  his  relief;  and, 
soon  afterward,  Norma  entered  the  parlor,  closing  the 
door  behind  her. 

If  Surrey  had  not  been  told  that  she  had  been  swab- 
bing her  face  he  would  have  known  it  from  her  appear- 
ance. Her  color  was  more  variegated  than  usual,  and 
she  had  a  troubled,  uneasy  expression,  but  without  hesita- 
tion she  advanced  to  him  and  spoke.  Under  any  circum- 
stances it  was  contrary  to  her  nature  to  hesitate  when  she 
had  anything  to  say. 


480  ARDIS   CLA  VERDEN. 

"Mr.  Surrey,"  said  she,  "you  sent  me  word  that  you 
wanted  me,  and  I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  there  are 
other  reasons  why  you  cannot  have  me.1' 

"Other  reasons!  What  are  they?"  exclaimed  Surrey, 
quickly. 

"  In  the  first  place  I  can  never  leave  my  home.  This 
home  is  part  of.  me,  and  I  am  part  of  it.  I  could  not 
tear  myself  from  it  nor  could  I  tear  myself  from  my 
father,  nor  from  my  family.  In  the  second  place  it  is 
plain  you  do  not  know  me.  I  am  a  person  accustomed 
to  direct,  to  control.  Everything  in  this  house  is  managed 
by  me.  I  like  that.  I  cannot  change  my  nature.  It 
would  be  impossible  for  me  to  subject  myself  to  the  will 
of  another.  I  cannot  give  up  my  independence." 

"And  these  are  your  reasons !  "  exclaimed  Surrey. 

"  Yes,"  said  Norma. 

Standing  and  looking  down  upon  her,  Jack  Surrey  felt 
that  his  liking  for  Norma  had  never  been  greater  than  at 
this  moment.  His  impulse  was  to  stop  discussing  the 
question,  and  to  take  her  in  his  arms.  But  he  restrained 
himself.  He  knew  that  if  he  lost  his  head  he  might  lose 
the  woman. 

"My  dear  child,"  he  exclaimed,  "your  reasons  I  blow 
to  the  winds!  Be  mine,  and  you  need  never  leave  this 
home  unless  you  wish  to.  You  shall  always  be  its  mis- 
tress, as  you  have  been.  You  shall  still  care  for  your 
father  and  your  family;  and,  better  than  ever,  for  I  will 
help  you.  Nothing  shall  be  changed  except  that  I  shall 
be  with  you,  heart  and  soul,  in  everything." 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  him,  but  did  not  interrupt. 

"And  as  to  your  management  of  affairs  here,  my  precious 
Norma,"  he  exclaimed,  advancing  a  step  nearer  to  her, 
"you  should  not  have  imagined  that  I  could  be  so  cruel, 
so  blind  to  the  interest  of  everybody  as  to  even  try  to 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  481 

change  that!  Oh  no,  my  dear  love,  my  darling.  Your 
hand  shall  ever  be  upon  the  helm.  You  it  shall  be  who 
shall  give  the  word  of  command.  You  shall  order  the 
sails  flung  to  the  winds,  or  furled  from  the  storm.  And 
you  shall  pipe  all  hands  to  holystone  the  deck ;  to  board 
the  enemy,  or  to  muster  aft  for  grog.'1 

Norma  raised  her  eyes  again,  and  slightly  smiled. 

"Now  all  your  reasons  have  vanished !"  cried  Surrey. 
"You  are  mine!" 

He  knew  there  was  no  further  need  for  cautiousness, 
and  he  took'  her  in  his  arms  and  gave  her,  with  hearty 
earnestness,  her  first  kiss  from  a  lover.  He  was  about  to 
repeat  the  pleasing  performance  when  she  gently  drew 
herself  away. 

"  *  Once  only,  Love,'  she  said.     "  Father  is  coming." 


482  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

rPHE  engagement  of  Norma  Cranton  and  Mr.  Surrey 
1  surprised  everybody.  Most  people  disapproved  of  it, 
because  as  Norma  Cranton  had  given  her  friends  and 
neighbors  reason  to  suppose  that  she  did  not  intend  to 
marry,  this  change  of  purpose  was  looked  upon  as  a  breach 
of  faith ;  and  as  for  Surrey,  he  was  probably  an  adven- 
turer. If  she  wanted  a  husband,  it  would  have  been 
much  better  for  her  to  have  taken  some  one  in  her  own 
county  who  was  known  to  herself  and  to  her  family. 

But  her  family  were  very  well  satisfied.  When  Mr. 
Cranton  found  that  Surrey  was  a  man  who  could  give  a 
good  account  of  himself;  and,  above  all,  that  he  was  will- 
ing to  come  there  and  live  with  them  and  be  one  of  them, ' 
he  gave  his  full  consent.  If  Norma  must  marry,  this  was 
the  kind  of  husband  she  ought  to  have. 

Ardis,  when  she  was  informed  of  the  engagement — and 
Norma  came  to  tell  of  it  on  the  afternoon  of  the  day  on 
which  it  took  place — was  amazed  and  grieved.  Doubts 
and  fears  rushed  upon  her  mind;  and  her  uppermost  feel- 
ing for  her  friend  was  that  of  pity. 

But  when  Norma  with  sparkling  eyes  and  glowing  cheeks 
had  told  her  tale ;  had  told  how  for  some  time  she  had 
had  a  drawing  toward  Jack ;  and  how  the  difficulties  which 
she  thought  in  the  way  had  all  been  blown  to  the  wind ; 
and  what  an  honest,  free-hearted  fellow  he  was  when  one 
came  to  truly  know  him ;  and  how  they  were  to  be  married 
on  Tuesday,  the  seventeenth  of  the  present  month,  and 
then  to  go  to  Old  Point  Comfort  for  a  fortnight,  because 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  483 

that  was  so  near  that  if  anything  happened  at  home  she 
could  be  easily  summoned ;  and  that  she  honestly  could 
say  she  was  never  so  truly  happy  in  all  her  days,  Ardis 
breathed  not  one  word  of  doubt,  or  fear,  or  pity.  Norma 
was  happy,  and  to  her  happiness  Ardis  gave  her  warmest 
and  most  loving  sympathy. 

"  But  there  is  one  thing,"  she  said,  "which  I  do  not  un- 
derstand at  all.  Tuesday,  the  seventeenth,  is  only  two 
weeks  from  to-day.  Why  do  you  plan  to  be  married  so 
soon?  You  are  wonderfully  prompt  in  planning,  anyway. 
Did  Mr.  Surrey  name  the  day  in  his  proposition?  " 

"  No,  he  did  not,"  said  Norma.  "  I  had  as  much  to  do 
with  fixing  the  day  as  he  had.  The  affair  may  look  a 
little  hasty;  but  Jack  is  like  me.  When  a  thing  is  to  be 
done,  he  thinks  the  way  to  do  it  is  to  do  it,  and  then  it 
is  done.  I  am  to  be  married  at  home,  without  any  stir, 
in  a  gray  silk  travelling  dress,  and  that  is  all  I  shall  have 
made  at  present.  It  will  be  a  comfort  to  have  it  all 
over,  especially  as  there  is  nobody  but  me  to  attend  to 
the  housekeeping;  and  I  certainly  ought  to  be  back  be- 
fore the  cucumbers  are  too  big  for  pickling." 

Ardis  leaned  back  in  her  chair  and  laughed.  "  My  dear 
child,"  she  cried,  "why  didn't  you  plant  gherkins,  and  then 
you  might  have  made  your  wedding  trip  ever  so  much 
longer.  They  never  grow  big." 

"  Gherkins !  "  cried  Norma.  "  I  never  plant  gherkins ! 
They  can't  get  bigger  than  your  finger,  and  how  are  you 
to  know  whether  they  are  young  and  tender,  or  old  and 
tough  ?  But  when  regular  cucumbers  are  little  they  are 
bound  to  be  young.  They  are  like  human  beings-;  a  baby 
is  a  baby,  and  you  can't  make  any  mistake  about  it.  But 
gherkins  are  like  imps  or  dwarfs;  little  enough  to  be  sure, 
but  they  may  be  as  old  as  the  hills." 

And  so  it  was  that  on  Tuesday,  the  seventeenth  day  of 


484  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

the  month,  John  Edward  Surrey  and  Norma  Witherspoon 
Cranton  were  married  at  Heatherley.  with  no  one  present 
but  the  family  and  a  few  near  friends;  that  they  went  to 
Old  Point  Comfort;  that  after  a  merry  fortnight  there 
with  the  world  and  the  sea,  they  returned  to  the  quiet  of 
Heatherley,  and  began  their  united  existence. 

And  the  honest-hearted  Norma  truly  believed  that  the 
alacrity  and  promptness  which  characterized  their  matri- 
monial proceedings  was  due  to  her  habits  of  prompt  ac- 
tion. Never  for  a  moment  did  she  imagine  that  she  was 
now  a  happy  married  woman  because  Jack  Surrey  was  a 
man  who,  if  he  had  anything  to  do,  went  immediately  to 
work  and  did  it. 

"  Everything  is  arranged  perfectly,''  she  said  to  Ardis  on 
her  return.  "  We  settled  it  while  we  were  away.  I  am 
to  manage  everything  in  our  establishment  just  as  I  have 
been  used  to  do ;  father  is  to  do  exactly  as  he  pleases, 
and  the  others  are  to  go  on  in  the  old  ways ;  but  Jack  is  to 
attend  to  all  the  buying  and  selling.  Buying  and  selling 
have  always  been  weak  points  in  our  family.  We  always 
sold  when  things  were  very  cheap,  and  bought  when  they 
were  very  dear.  Jack  is  going  to  change  all  that.  I  have 
no  doubt  that  we  shall  be  thousands  of  dollars  richer." 

The  early  days  of  August  came,  rich,  warm,  and  fruity. 

Then  it  was  that  Roger  and  Ardis  were  married.  This 
wedding,  too,  took  place  in  the  family  mansion  of  the 
bride ;  but  it  did  not  at  all  resemble  the  quiet  ceremony 
at  Heatherley.  From  all  the  surrounding  country,  and 
from  cities  afar,  came  wedding  guests  to  Bald  Hill.  This 
was  the  grand  culminating  glory  which  had  come  to 
shed  its  refulgent  light  upon  the  life  of  Major  Claverden; 
and  he  desired  that  all  the  world — at  least  all  his  world — 
should  see  that  light ;  should  bask  and  revel  in  it. 

Not  only  invited  guests,  but  negro  men,  women,  and 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  485 

children  with  shining  teeth  and  glittering  eyes,  came  from 
all  surrounding  parts  to  lend  a  hand  on  this  great  occa- 
sion. To  bask  and  revel  in  the  effulgent  light  of  a  wed- 
ding at  Bald  Hill  was  a  joy  to  them  which  would  stand 
out  boldly  in  the  experience  of  a  lifetime. 

Two  little  darkies  to  a  stick  of  wood  for  the  great 
kitchen  fire ;  three  dancing  colored  girls  to  a  pail  of  water ; 
two  women  to  pick  the  feathers  from  one  chicken ;  three 
stout  fellows  to  groom  a  horse,  and  a  troop  of  between 
twenty  or  thirty  men,  women,  and  children  to  bring  up 
watermelons  from  the  distant  patch,  was  about  the  pro- 
portion of  laborers  to  labor  in  these  happy  days  of  prepa- 
ration. Uncle  Shad  nearly  broke  himself  down  endeavor- 
ing to  find  them  all  something  to  do. 

In  the  old  mansion  there  was  a  rare  scene  when  the 
beautiful  daughter  of  the  house  walked  through  the  parted 
crowd  of  wedding  guests ;  and,  still  mistress  of  all  hearts, 
gave  herself  away  to  one. 

When  the  ceremony  was  over,  the  major  stepped  to  the 
front  and  took  command  of  the  merrymaking.  All  made 
merry,  but  none  made  merrier  than  Jack  Surrey.  The  oc- 
casion suited  him  perfectly.  For  the  time  he  became, 
heart  and  soul,  a  Virginia  gentleman  of  the  olden  time, 
and  there  were  moments  when  it  might  have  been  diffi- 
cult to  determine  whether  it  was  he  or  Major  Claverden 
who  was  the  genial,  glowing  host. 

When  the  last  cork  had  been  drawn  at  the  wedding 
supper,  when  the  last  toast  had  been  drunk,  and  the  last 
speech  made ;  when  the  last  kiss  had  been  given,  and  the 
last  happy  tear  had  been  shed,  Roger  and  Ardis  drove 
away  under  the  bright  stars  on  their  wedding  journey  to 
the  North. 


486  ARDIS  CLAVERDEX. 


CHAPTER  L. 

MR.  EGBERT  DALRYMPLE  did  not  attend  the 
wedding  at  Bald  Hill.  Shortly  after  his  conversa- 
tion with  Major  Claverden,  in  which  the  latter  invited  him 
to  visit  his  house  no  more,  he  had  gone  away  to  stay  away 
until  it  should  please  him  to  come  back.  During  such 
absences  it  was  his  usual  custom  to  go  from  place  to 
place  without  giving  notice  to  any  one. 

His  family  had  grown  accustomed  to  this  and  looked 
upon  it  as  an  eccentricity  of  genius.  That  Egbert  was  a 
genius  not  one  of  them  doubted.  In  many  respects  this 
was  a  comforting  conviction,  for  as  it  had  always  been  im- 
possible to  induce  him  to  act  like  other  people,  they  satis- 
fied their  consciences  in  giving  up  the  attempt  by  the 
reflection  that  there  was  a  reason  for  his  peculiarities. 
Genius  they  considered  a  very  good  reason. 

The  son  of  the  house  disturbed  himself  not  at  all  about 
the  opinions  of  the  family,  or  the  opinions  of  other  people. 
In  action  he  was  absolutely  independent.  What  he  chose 
to  do  he  did;  and  this  might  be  said  to  be  the  rule  of  his 
life,  if  it  had  been  compatible  with  his  nature  to  make 
rules. 

He  had  gone  away  from  home  because  discordant  notes 
had  been  struck  within  him — very  discordant.  When  the 
murmur  of  this  inharmony  had  ceased  he  would  return. 
He  belonged  to  Ardis  Claverden.  He  had  given  him- 
self to  her,  and  there  was  no  power  on  earth  which  could 
make  him  withdraw  the  gift.  In  the  autumn  he  would 
return;  and  without  reference  to  anything  which  had 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  487 

taken  place  he  would  again  assure  her  of  the  eternal  val- 
idity of  her  property  in  him. 

Going  from  one  summer  resort  to  another  he  met  many 
beautiful  and  charming  women,  and  as  he  was  as  nearly 
beautiful  as  a  man  can  be,  some  of  these  were  attracted 
by  him.  This  he  perceived,  but  the  knowledge  made  no 
impression  upon  him.  If  he  occupied  himself  at  all  with 
thoughts  of  these  ladies  it  was  when,  from  a  lofty  height, 
he  criticised  their  charms.  This  one  was  below  his  stand- 
ard in  one  way;  that  one  in  another.  One  lady  he  con- 
demned because  she  was  too  beautiful.  She  would  make 
everything  about  her  mean  and  ugly,  he  thought;  she 
shone  in  herself,  she  gave  out  nothing.  Not  so  the  radi- 
ant one  to  whom  he  had  given  himself.  Her  loveliness 
was  all-pervading.  It  filled  his  perceptions.  It  made  it 
impossible  for  him  to  see  aught  but  beauty  in  everything 
about  her. 

He  was  stopping  in  New  York  on  his  way  from  the  sea- 
shore to  the  mountains,  when,  picking  up  a  newspaper  at 
his  hotel,  he  saw  therein  an  announcement  of  the  mar- 
riage of  Roger  Dunworth  and  Ardis  Claverden.  He  read 
it  carefully;  he  read  it  again  and  then  he  laid  the  paper 
upon  the  table.  He  stood  for  few  a  moments  gazing 
darkly  upon  the  floor.  Then  he  ejaculated:  "So!"  and 
strode  from  the  room. 

With  his  arms  folded  and  his  eyes  fixed  in  sombre 
steadfastness  on  the  ground  before  him,  he  strode  a  long 
distance,  turning  at  random  this  corner  or  that.  A 
flower-stand  happening  to  come  within  the  range  of  his 
downward  glance,  his  eye  was  attracted  by  a  blossom 
whose  hue  was  in  harmony  with  the  season.  Stopping, 
he  bought  the  flower,  and  pinned  it  in  his  buttonhole. 

It  had  been  late  in  the  afternoon  when  he  read  the  an- 
nouncement ;  and  when  it  grew  dark  he  was  still  striding. 


488  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

After  a  time  he  came  out  on  one  of  the  river  fronts  in  a 
somewhat  unfrequented  part  of  the  city.  The  streets  and 
wharves  were  here  not  well-lighted,  but  there  was  a  young 
moon,  and  its  half-fledged  radiance  made  up  the  deficien- 
cies of  lamp  light.  He  went  out  on  a  pier,  and  stood 
with  folded  arms  gazing  darkly  at  the  scene.  The  river 
stretched  far  before  him  to  the  green  heights  upon  the 
other  side.  Below  there  were  moving  lights  upon  the 
water.  Up  the  river  all  was  calm  and  quiet. 

Moored  at  a  short  distance  beyond  the  end  of  the  pier 
was  a  canal  boat  with  no  one  visible  upon  it.  Dalrymple 
much  wished  to  get  upon  this  boat.  He  disliked  to  have 
it  between  him  and  the  view.  But  there  was  no  plank 
connecting  it  with  the  pier,  and  the  distance  was  too  great 
to  leap. 

Dalrymple  was  full  of  youthful  vigor  and  activity.  He 
mounted  with  ease  to  the  top  of  one  of  the  tall  posts  at 
the  end  of  the  pier,  and  stood  erect,  with  arms  folded. 
This  elevated  position  gave  him  a  good  view  of  the  wide- 
spread and  dimly-lighted  scene ;  a  scene  in  perfect  har- 
mony with  his  train  of  thought ;  for  the  young  moon  was 
going  down  the  sky,  and  dusk  was  slowly  giving  place  to 
night. 

But  the  view  was  unsatisfactory  to  Egbert  Dalrymple ; 
the  obtrusive  and  incongruous  canal  boat  was  between  him 
and  the  far-reaching.  He  could  not  avoid  seeing  it  in  its 
ugliness,  its  inharmoniousness.  He  got  down  from  the 
post  and  looked  over  the  side  of  the  pier.  Under  the 
next  pier  he  saw  a  network  of  beams  and  cross-pieces 
which  had  for  him  an  odd  attraction.  He  knew  there 
must  be  the  same  beneath  the  pier  on  which  he  stood; 
and  he  let  himself  down  nearly  to  the  surface  of  the 
water  and  got  upon  the  supporting  frame-work.  Hold- 
ing to  some  of  these  timbers,  and  stepping  upon  others, 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  489 

he  moved  slowly  under  the  pier.  The  light  was  very 
dim  and  occasionally  he  stretched  out  one  foot  before 
him  in  order  to  feel  his  way,  and  af*°r  a  slight  slip  while 
doing  this,  his  foot  accidentally  rested  upon  a  large,  hori- 
zontal beam,  a  little  below  the  surface  of  the  water.  This 
discovery  fascinated  him.  His  eyes  were  becoming  ac- 
customed to  the  dim  light,  and  he  could  discern  the 
timbers  about  him.  But  this  one  could  not  be  seen;  it 
was  an  unknown  foothold. 

Moving  his  foot  along  this  submerged  beam,  he  found 
that  it  extended  itself  toward  the  outer  end  of  the  pier ;  how 
far  it  extended  he  could  not  know,  but  that  mattered 
nothing.  He  stepped  boldly  upon  the  beam  and,  as  here 
there  was  space  enough,  he  stood  upright.  Then,  thrust- 
ing his  hands  into  his  trousers'  pockets,  he  walked  steadily 
forward,  the  water  lapping  about  his  ankles. 

It  pleased  him  well  that  he  could  not  see  the  beam  on 
which  he  walked.  He  would  come  to  the  end  of  it  with- 
out knowing  he  was  there.  This  would  be  in  consonance 
with  his  mood. 

He  came  to  the  end  without  knowing  he  was  there. 
"  So!  "  he  ejaculated ;  and  thrusting  his  hands  still  deeper 
into  his  pockets,  he  disappeared  beneath  the  water. 

There  was  no  one  on  the  canal  boat  but  the  wife  of  the 
captain,  and  as  she  did  not  expect  her  husband  until  a 
late  hour  she  fastened  the  door  of  the  little  cabin  and 
went  to  bed  early.  She  slept  well,  but  she  had  a  curious 
dream.  She  dreamed  that  somebody  without  a  boat,  or  a 
plank,  or  a  bridge  of  any  kind,  came  out  to  the  canal  boat, 
and  knocked  for  admission.  And,  strangest  of  all,  this 
person  did  not  knock  on  the  door  of  her  cabin,  nor  on 
the  deck,  nor  on  the  sides,  nor  at  the  bow  nor  the  stern, 
but  actually  knocked  on  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 

When,  after  midnight,  her  husband  came  on  board  in  a 


490 


ARDIS   CLA  VERDE.\\ 


skiff,  she  told  him  her  dream.  He  was  in  a  jovial  mood 
and  laughed. 

"  That's  just  where  I  want  people  to  knock,"  said  he, 
"  who  come  about  this  boat  when  I  am  away.  I  fancy 
you  didn't  git  up  an'  let  him  in?  " 

The  woman  smiled,  but  the  influence  of  the  dream  was 
upon  her,  and  she  lay  awake  for  a  long  time. 

The  tide  was  running  out,  and  from  under  the  canal 
boat  the  flower  of  late  summer,  the  blossom  in  harmony 
with  the  season,  floated  away  under  the  quiet  waters  into 
the  open  bay,  and  beneath  the  vessels  great  and  small, 
on  and  on,  urged  by  the  strong  current,  out  to  sea.  And 
there,  floating  in  still  water  far  below  the  long-rolling  sur- 
face swell  it  passed  beneath  a  coastwise  steamer  coming 
northward,  on  whose  deck  stood  a  newly-wedded  couple 
on  their  bridal  tour.  They  had  come  on  deck  to  see  the 
sun  rise. 

Farther  out  to  sea,  and  farther  out,  and  deeper  down, 
and  deeper  down,  sank  the  flower  of  late  summer,  until  it 
faded  away  into  unknown  depths,  where  no  particle  of  light 
could  penetrate  to  show  that  it  had  ever  been  a  flower. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  49  j 


CHAPTER   LI. 

IT  was  early  in  September,  Ardis  and  Roger  had  re- 
turned from  their  wedding  tour,  and  at  the  earnest 
solicitude  of  Major  Claverden  were  spending  a  few  days 
at  Bald  Hill  before  settling  in  their  new  home.  Not  a 
cloud  obscured  their  perfect  happiness.  They  returned 
to  hear  nothing  but  that  which  was  cheerful  and  hopeful. 

At  Heatherley,  Norma  was  full  of  work  and  happiness. 
Delighted  with  the  conviction  that,  as  a  i.iarried  woman, 
she  was  managing  better  than  ever  before,  she  did  not 
perceive  that  Jack  Surrey's  hand  was  ever  on  the  helm ; 
that  he  it  was  who  gave  the  word  of  command ;  that  he 
ordered  the  sails  flung  to  the  .winds  or  furled  from  the 
storm ;  and  that  he  piped  all  hands  to  holystone  the  deck, 
to  board  the  enemy,  or  to  muster  aft  for  grog. 

Doctor  Lester  was  looking  better.  His  eyes  were 
brighter,  and  the  old  smile  was  more  frequently  seen  on 
his  face.  He  had  accepted  two  things;  the  Inevitable 
and  Cream-o'-Tartar,  and  both  had  done  him  good.  He 
was  fond  of  walking,  but  he  did  not  like  to  be  obliged  to 
walk,  it  humbled  him.  It  was  cheering  to  his  soul  again 
to  ride  about  on  his  good  old  friend,  and  wherever  he 
went,  to  meet  other  good  friends  glad  to  see  him. 

One  thing  he  had  lost,  or  rather  had  deliberately  set 
aside,  and  that  was  the  old  friendship  and  intimacy  with 
his  brother  philosophizer,  Bonetti.  The  doctor  was  al- 
ways civil  to  the  descendant  of  the  wine  dresser,  but  there 
was  no  more  philosophizing;  there  were  no  more  conn- 


492  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

dences.  Bonnet  had  been  false  to  him.  Bonnet  was  set 
aside. 

The  three  English  pupils  of  husbandry  still  remained  at 
the  Dunworth  place,  awaiting  the  advent  of  the  new 
regime.  Parchester  was  there  because  it  was  the  wish  of 
his  heart  to  live  where  he  could  serve  the  mistress  who 
was  coming;  Skit-t  was  there  because  he  wanted  to  see 
how  things  were  going  to  turn  out ;  and  Cruppledean  re- 
mained because  it  was  stupid  to  go  off  by  one's  self,  and 
because  he  supposed  one  place  was  as  bad  as  another. 

Tom  Prouter  was  in  a  state  of  spasmodic  satisfaction. 
This  had  been  the  case  for  a  few  days  only.  For  some 
weeks  before  he  had  been  in  a  very  dull  mood.  He 
had  lost  interest  in  his  vineyard.  Surrey  had  deserted 
him ;  and  there  had  been  another  cloud  of  which  he  did 
not  speak.  But  now  his  spirits  were  brightening.  He 
had  sold  his  place,  and  Miss  Airpenny  had  bought  it. 

This  sturdy  and  worthy  lady  was  about  to  set  off  on  a 
long  series  of  journeys  into  far-away  lands,  and  it  had  oc- 
curred to  her,  when  Prouter's  little  estate  was  put  into  the 
market  at  a  very  low  figure,  that  it  would  be  a  satisfactory 
thing  to  have  a  home  to  come  back  to  and  a  place  to 
which  to  send  such  articles  of  oddity  or  art  as  she  might 
collect  in  her  wanderings.  So  she  bought  the  property, 
vineyard  and  all,  and  engaged  Bonetti  to  come  there  with 
his  family  and  take  charge  while  she  was  away,  and  to  de- 
vote his  services  to  her  when  she  should  return. 

This  was  rare  good  fortune  to  Bonetti.  Here  would 
be  opportunities,  such  as  before  he  had  never  had  for  en- 
joying what  the  seasons  might  give  him  of  warm  air,  blue 
sky,  and  the  smell  of  grapes. 

It  was  matter  for  conjecture,  when  Bonetti  had  settled 
his  family  in  the  small  house  vacated  by  Prouter,  whether 
or  not  Miss  Airpenny,  after  her  return  from  her  travels 


ARDIS   CLAVERDEN.  493 

would  be  able  to  find  any  place  for  herself  and  her  be- 
longings. But  the  ingenious  Bonetti  easily  solved  this 
problem  by  showing  what  a  simple  matter  it  would  be  to 
build  a  wing  on  one  side  of  the  house.  There  was  space 
enough  to  make  the  rooms  any  size  Miss  Airpenny  might 
think  she  required. 

One  regret  only  clouded  the  soul  of  Bonetti,  and  that 
was  that  Doctor  Lester  was  no  longer  his  friend,  confi- 
dant, and  benefactor.  But  philosophizing  is  often  a  great 
comfort;  and  as  Bonetti  smoked  his  evening  pipe  on  the 
little  porch  of  his  new  home,  he  more  than  once  said  to 
himself  that,  after  all,  it  was  very  well  that  things  had  hap- 
pened as  they  had  happened.  For  if  he  had  not  sold  that 
little  piece  of  information  to  Prouter  he  and  Surrey  would 
never  have  gone  to  Georgia;  there  would  have  been  no 
row  down  there ;  Miss  Ardis  would  have  returned  to  Bald 
Hill  engaged  to  Dunworth;  the  madcap  Prouter  would 
never  have  thought  of  settling  down  and  buying  that 
house  and  vineyard ;  if  he  had  not  bought  it  he  could  not 
have  sold  it  to  Miss  Airpenny;  if  Miss  Airpenny  had  not 
become  its  owner,  he,  Joseph  Bonetti,  would  not  now  be 
smoking  his  evening  pipe  upon  that  porch. 

The  fact  that  no  one  knew  anything  of  the  whereabouts 
of  Egbert  Dalrymple  caused  no  sensation  in  his  family 
nor  among  his  acquaintances.  It  was  so  much  of  a  cus- 
tom with  him  to  go  away  when  he  pleased,  to  stay  away  as 
long  as  he  pleased,  and  to  write  to  no  one  unless  it  hap- 
pened to  please  him  to  do  so,  that  his  continued  absence 
was  considered  quite  a  matter  of  course.  He  had  a  small 
income  of  his  own,  and  it  was  not  necessary  for  him  to 
communicate  with  his  family. 

His  sister  had  her  private  ideas  about  him.  "This 
time,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  it  is  all  on  account  of  that 
Claverden  girl.  He  will  not  come  back  here  until  he  has 


494  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

set  his  heart  on  somebody  else.     If  he  should  write  to  me 
from  Japan,  I  should  not  be  surprised." 

As  nobody  knew  where  he  had  gone,  nobody  knew  that 
he  would  not  come  back.  The  only  connection  between 
what  he  had  been  and  what  he  was,  was  the  vague  dream 
of  the  wife  of  the  canal-boat  captain — a  dream  belonging 
as  much  to  another  world  as  to  this. 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN.  495 


CHAPTER   LII. 

It  was  the  last  evening  of  the  stay  of  Roger  and  Ardis  at 
Bald  Hill.  On  the  morrow  they  would  begin  life  in 
their  own  home.  The  air  was  slightly  cool,  j.nd  a  wood 
fire  was  crackling  in  the  library,  where  a  goodly  company 
of  friends  were  assembled.  The  Chiverleys  were  there; 
they  had  come  down  to  the  wedding,  and  had  been  de- 
tained by  the  major  as  prisoners  of  hospitality.  Doctor 
Lester  was  there ;  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Surrey  had  driven 
down  from  Heatherley  in  the  old  family  coach,  which  had 
recently  been  painted  and  put  in  running  order.  Ex- 
Governor  Upton  and  General  Tredner  had  arrived  that 
day,  having  come  down  to  Bald  Hill  to  keep  the  major 
from  feeling  lonely  after  his  daughter  had  gone.  They 
were  always  willing  to  employ  a  spare  week  or  two  in  good 
works  of  this  sort. 

The  major  had  invited  the  three  English  pupils,  but 
when  they  heard  that  Miss  Airpenny  was  to  be  there. 
Skitt  and  Cruppledean  declined;  and  Tom  Prouter 
drove  Parchester  to  Bald  Hill  in  his  cart. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  should  like  to  do?  "  said  Prouter, 
when  they  were  on  the  road. 

"  No,  really,"  said  Parchester.  "  It  is  too  much  to  ex- 
pect of  any  man  to  know  what  you  would  like  to  do!  " 

"  Then  I'll  tell  you,"  said  Prouter,  with  an  expression  of 
high  moral  conviction.  "  It  is  beastly  stupid  for  me  to  try 
to  manage  things  I  know  nothing  about.  I  made  an 
ass  of  myself  in  the  milk  business,  and  vine-growing  was 
no  better.  Before  I  start  out  to  do  anything  else  I  ought 


496  ARDIS   CLAVERDEN. 

to  know  how  to  do  it.  What  do  you  say  to  my  asking 
Dun  worth  to  take  me  as  a  pupil?  " 

Parchester  gave  a  sudden  twist  in  his  seat,  and  looked 
very  hard  at  his  companion.  "  Tom  Prouter,"  said  he, 
"where  did  you  tell  me  your  peor^e  live  at  home?  " 

"  At  Fligwich,  Bucks,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Well  then,"  said  Parchester,  "what  I  advise  you  to  do 
is  to  go  back  to  Fligwich  as  soon  as  you  can." 

"Fligwich  be  blowed!"  said  Prouter,  as  he  gave  his 
horse  such  a  crack  that  Parchester  nearly  went  backward 
out  of  the  cart.  "  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I'll  go  to 
California  and  travel  about  there  for  a  time,  and  if  I  find, 
when  I  come  back,  that  I  haven't  got  over  wanting  to 
learn  farming  of  Dunworth,  then  I'll  go  to  Fligwich." 

The  library  was  the  largest  and  pleasantest  room  at 
Bald  Hill ;  and  never  had  it  held  a  more  genial  company. 
Late  in  the  evening  the  major  absented  himself  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  when  he  returned  he  bore  in  his  hand  a 
bottle  of  wine.  He  advanced  into  the  middle  of  the 
room,  and  put  the  bottle  upon  a  table. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "  I  will  ask  you  to 
give  me  your  attention  for  a  very  short  time.  You  all 
know  that  for  years  I  have  devoted  myself  to  an  object 
which  gradually  grew  to  be  very  precious  to  me.  That 
object  was  to  produce  on  my  native  soil,  on  the  very  land 
on  which  I  was  born,  on  which  I  have  lived,  and  on  which 
I  shall  die,  a  wine  as  rich,  as  generous,  I  may  say  of  as 
noble  qualities,  as  that  which  is  made  from  the  most  famed 
vineyards  of  the  Rhine ;  in  which  vineyards  there  are  no 
elements  of  success  in  grape  culture  which  do  not  exist  on 
my  own  Bald  Hill.  This  I  believe.  And  this  I  still  be- 
lieve. 

"But  I  have  not  been  able  to  attain  my  object. 
Through  my  own  fault  I  have  been  unable  to  attain 


ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 


497 


it.     In  many  ways  I  erred,  but  I  shall  not  dwell  upon 
these.     One  of  my  greatest  faults  was  the  eagerness  of 
age.     I  ought  to  have  been  a  young  man  when  I  began 
this  work,  for  I  was  handicappped  by  the  feeling  that 
what  I  had  to  do  must  be  done  quickly.     I  was  too  un 
willing  to  wait  patiently  for  results.     Of  this  I  will  pres 
ently  give  you  proof. 

"  Four  years  ago  some  of  my  vines,  to  which  I  had  given 
great  care,  yielded  promising  fruit  from  which  a  small 
quantity  of  wine  was  made.  This  wine,  even  after  the 
lapse  of  two  years,  did  not  come  up  to  my  standard  of 
wine  of  that  age.  This  disappointment  led  me  to  dig  up 
the  vines.  Of  the  wine  that  was  made,  only  this  bottle 
was  preserved.  A  day  or  two  ago,  more  from  curiosity 
than  any  other  motive,  I  tasted  it,  and  I  say  to  you,  my 
dear  friends,  that  I  believe  I  have  here  the  true  wine  of 
Bald  Hill,  equal  to  any  wine  ever  made  on  the  slopes  of 
the  Rhine  or  on  the  smiling  shores  of  the  Mediterranean." 

This  announcement  made  a  great  stir  in  the  eagerly 
listening  company;  but  no  one  interrupted  the  major,  and 
he  went  on. 

*'  But  I  have  failed  in  my  great  object  of  the  production 
of  this  wine  on  my  native  soil.  The  vines  from  which  this 
was  made  are  gone.  I  cannot  tell  any  one,  for  I  do  not 
know,  myself,  under  what  conditions  I  grew  them.  It  is 
too  late  for  me  to  begin  again  that  protracted  series  of 
experiments.  There  is  in  the  world  but  this  one  bottle  of 
my  wine  of  Bald  Hill;  and  there  will  never  be  any  more 
of  it. 

"  But  I  do  not  consider  that  my  life  has  been  a  failure. 
I  have  lived  to  see  my  daughter  happy.  That  is  enough 
for  me.  And  now,  good  friends,  to  the  health  and  hap- 
piness of  that  daughter  let  us  drink  the  wine  of  Bald  Hill." 

A  tray  of  small  glasses  was  brought,  and  the  major  care- 
32 


498  ARDIS  CLAVERDEN. 

fully  portioned  the  precious  wine  among  the  company.  The 
toast  was  drank  with  friendly  enthusiasm.  Then  followed 
a  burst  of  encomiums  upon  the  aroma  and  flavor  of  the 
wine  which  the  company  continued  to  sip  with  increasing 
delight  as  long  as  a  drop  remained.  But  it  was  impossi- 
ble that  the  general  gratification  should  not  be  mingled 
with  feelings  of  regret  that  the  Wine  of  Bald  Hill  was 
a  thing  of  the  past.  The  major,  however,  declined  all 
condolences.  He  had  had  success  enough  in  life;  he 
could  spare  this  one. 

Suddenly,  and  to  the  surprise  of  every  one,  Doctor 
Lester  rose  to  his  feet  with  the  evident  intention  of  ad- 
dressing the  company.  Such  action  was  so  foreign  to  the 
ordinary  habits  of  this  quiet  and  retiring  gentleman  that 
every  one  stopped  talking,  and  every  eye  was  fixed  upon 
him.  Unaccustomed  as  he  was  to  addressing  even  the 
smallest  assembly,  he  did  not,  on  this  occasion,  hesitate, 
nor  show  the  slightest  discomposure.  Either  the  potent 
spirit  of  the  rich  wine,  or  the  concentrated  emotions  of  a 
lifetime  affected  him.  He  spoke  with  strength  and 
earnestness. 

"  My  friends,"  he  said,  "  do  not  commiserate  Major 
Claverden.  He  has  nothing  to  regret.  He  has  not  failed. 
The  true  '  Wine  of  Bald  Hill '  is  a  thing  of  reality.  It  ex- 
ists. Noble,  generous,  and  rare,  it  flows  in  the  veins  of 
his  daughter  Ardis." 

A  round  of  applause  broke  from  the  company  as  the 
doctor  sat  down ;  and,  without  a  word,  Major  Claverden 
warmly  grasped  him  by  the  hand.  A  moment  afterward 
Ardis  stepped  quickly  to  the  doctor's  side,  and,  stooping, 
kissed  him. 

THE  END. 


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"The  story  is  pictorially  told  and  well  arranged,  and  the  illus- 
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"  Mr.  Abbot  knows  how  to  write  for  boys;  his  style  is  lively, 
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capital  presentation  of  the  main  point,  with  background  so  well 
finished  that  every  line  of  the  narrative  is  interesting.  In  this  book 
Mr.  Abbot  has  outdone  his  own  record,  for  it  is  his  best."—  The 
Critic,  N.  Y. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  & 

THE  WORKS  OF  EDWARD  P.  ROE. 

2O  vols.,  in  uniform  binding,  in  cloth,  each  $1.50. 

BARRIERS  BURNED  AWAY. 

WHAT  CAN  SHE  DO  ? 

OPENING  A  CHESTNUT  BURR. 

NEAR  TO  NATURE'S  HEART. 

FROM  JEST  TO  EARNEST. 

A  KNIGHT  OF  THE  XIX.  CENTURY. 

A  FACE  ILLUMINED. 

A  DAY  OF  FATE. 

WITHOUT  A  HOME. 

HIS  SOMBRE  RIVALS. 

A  YOUNG  GIRL'S  WOOING. 

AN  ORIGINAL  BELLE. 

DRIVEN  BACK  TO  EDEN. 

NATURE'S  SERIAL  STORY. 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE. 

THE  EARTH  TREMBLED. 

MISS  LOU. 

TAKEN    ALIVE,    AND     OTHER    STORIES. 

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THE  HOME  ACRE. 

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SUCCESS  WITH  SMALL  FRUITS.  Square 
8vo,  beautifully  illustrated,  $2.50. 

"The  chief  elements  of  Mr.  Roe's  popularity  as  a  novelist  area 
very  exact  understanding  of  the  habits  of  thought  of  the  great 
majority,  sympathy  with  the  ordinary  passions  and  sentiments, 
respect  for  whatever  is  just  and  decorous,  and,  lastly,  the  art  of  tell- 
ing a  simple  story  in  a  simple  and  effective  manner." — New  York 
Tribune*  .  _  .<  •  •  -  -•  •  •  •  .,•.... 


PUBLICA  TIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  <5r-  COMPANY. 

WITHOUT  A  HOME. — "  The  ultimate  design  of  the  story  is  to 
trace  the  origin  and  growth,  and  exhibit  the  pernicious  results  of  the 
morphia  habit.  Mr.  Roe  has  graphically,  and  at  times  powerfully 
and  dramatically,  portrayed  its  influence  to  wither  and  destroy  man. 
hood  and  to  wreck  the  happiness  of  the  family.  The  harrowing 
incidents  which  are  the  consequence  of  the  evil  are  not  so  ostenta- 
tiously exhibited  as  to  be  revolting,  but  are  ingeniously  distributed 
over  a  story  that  has  a  substantial  and  independent  interest  of  its 
own." — Harper's  Magazine, 

NEAR  TO  NATURE'S  HEART.  — "His  heroine  Is  a  pure  child  of 
nature,  with  a  limited  experience  of  life,  and  none  of  society;  but 
her  artless  character  combines  a  pleasure  of  noble  principle, 
womanly  devotion,  and  high-souled  conduct,  which  is  rarely  found 
among  the  fruits  of  the  choicest  culture." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  Edward  P.  Roe's  works  are  stamped  with  a  strong  individual- 
ity,  and  depicted  with  a  naturalness  that  indicates  a  keen  student  of 
human  nature  and  modern  life." — Boston  Traveller. 

His  SOMBRE  RIVALS. — "A  strong  story.  A  study  of  love  and 
of  war  ;  a  tale  of  army  service  during  the  Rebellion,  and  of  the  home 
life  that  waited  so  anxiously  on  it.  It  is  a  study,  too,  of  love  and 
suffering,  and  an  argument  against  atheism,  but  not  a  controversial 
one — the  story  itself  is  the  argument." — Philadelphia  Inquirer. 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE  WITH  HIS  WIFE,— "The  more  I  think  over 
the  book  the  better  I  like  it  in  all  its  parts.  Upon  the  whole  I  think 
Mr.  Roe  has  written  the  best  American  novel  that  has  been  pub- 
lished this  year."—  Julian  Hawthorne  in  the  N.  V.  World. 

NATURE'S  SERIAL  STORY. — "Mr.  Roe  has  walked  with  us 
through  happy  valleys  where  peace  and  contentment  brood,  where 
we  can  hear  the  song  of  the  bird  and  the  merry  jest  of  the  reaper, 
and  watch  the  alternate  shadow  and  sunshine  that  dim  and  glorify  the 
human  heart." — Philadelphia  Record. 

THE  EARTH  TREMBLED. — "The latest  novel  by  E.  P.  Roe,  who 
is  the  most  popular  American  novelist,  is  one  combining  all  his  best 
characteristics.  The  story  involves  much  of  the  war  period,  and  is  a 
strong  and  fascinating  love-story.  There  is  a  high  moral  tone  and  a 
sympathetic  fervor  to  Mr.  Roe's  writing  that  is  always  appreciated." 
— Boston  Evening  Traveller. 

AN  ORIGINAL  BELLE. — "The  descriptions  of  battle  scenes  in 
the  war  and  the  lurid  picture  of  the  draft  riots  in  New  York  are 
worth  reading.  Nothing  that  Mr.  Roe  has  ever  written  is  so  vivid 
and  dramatic  as  his  sketch  of  the  three  terrible  days  in  New  York 
when  the  mob  ruled  the  city,  sacked  the  colored  orphan  asylum,  and 
spread  dismay  in  a  thousand  homes.  It  has  the  quality  of  history 
also,  as  the  author  has  made  careful  research  and  employs  no  inci- 
dents which  did  not  really  occur." — San  Francisco  Chronicl*. 


PUBLICA  TIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

By  JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOT, 

AMERICAN  PIONEERS  AND  PATRIOTS. 
A  series  illustrating1  the  early  history  and 
settlement  of  our  country.  Each  in  one  vol., 
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COLUMBUS  AND  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  AMERICA. 
DE  SOTO,  THE  DISCOVERER  OF  THE  MISSISSIPPI. 
LA   SALLE  ;    HIS   DISCOVERIES  AND  ADVENTURES 

WITH  THE  INDIANS  OF  THE  NORTHWEST. 
MILES  STANDISH,  THE  CAPTAIN  OF  THE  PILGRIMS. 
CAPTAIN  KIDD  AND  THE   EARLY   AMERICAN    BUC- 
CANEERS. 

PETER    STUYVESANT    AND    THE    EARLY  SETTLE- 
MENT OF  NEW  YORK. 
BENJAMIN     FRANKLIN    AND    THE    STRUGGLES   OF 

OUR  INFANT  NATION. 
GEORGE  WASHINGTON  AND  THE  REVOLUTIONARY 

WAR. 
DANIEL    BOONE    AND    THE    EARLY    SETTLEMENT 

OF  KENTUCKY. 

KIT  CARSON,  THE  PIONEER  OF  THE  FAR  WEST. 
PAUL  JONES,  THE  NAVAL  HERO  OF  THE    REVOLU- 
TION. 
DAVID  CROCKETT  AND  EARLY  TEXAN  HISTORY. 

These  attractive  volumes,  illustrating  the  early  settlement  of 
America  and  abounding  with  tales  of  courage  and  fortitude  and 
thrilling  adventures  among  the  savage  tribes,  are  among  the  best 
books  issued.  They  are  written  in  the  clear  and  picturesque  style 
that  makes  the  writer's  works  on  the  most  interesting  periods  of 
French  history  so  popular.  The  story  of  "  Boone,"  always  a  favorite 
with  the  young,  is  retold  with  singular  vividness  and  freshness.  In 
"  Miles  Standish"  we  have  a  picture  of  the  hardships  of  the  Pilgrims 
from  the  parting  at  Delft  Haven  to  their  perils  in  the  wilderness,  when 
threatened  by  famine  and  surrounded  by  savage  foes.  "  De  Soto" 
reads  like  a  romance  of  the  chivalric  deeds  of  knight-errantry.  His 
adventures  among  the  Indian  races,  his  grand  discovery  of  the 
Mississippi,  and  his  burial  in  its  waters,  have  never  before  been  told 
so  clearly,  connectedly  and  circumstantially, 


PUB LIC A  TIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  <Sr*  COMPANY. 

JOHN  S.  C.  ABBOT.— Continued. 

"  Christopher  Carson  "  is  the  story  of  one  of  the  most  famous  si 
the  Western  adventurers  whose  life  is  a  romance  of  the  wilderness. 

"  Peter  Stuyvesant  "  gives  a  capital  picture  of  the  early  history 
of  New  York  before  it  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  English. 

If  a  career  of  daring  and  successful  undertakings,  of  gallant 
conduct  in  battle,  of  fearless  enterprises  at  sea,  is  worthy  of  record, 
the  life  history  of  "John  Paul  Jones"  deserves  a  place  in  our 
country's  archives. 

The  life  of  "Crockett"  is  a  veritable  romance,  with  the  addi- 
tional charm  of  unquestionable  truth.  It  opens  to  the  reader  scenes 
in  the  lives  of  the  lowly  and  a  state  of  semi-civilization  of  which  bat 
few  can  have  any  idea. 

The  wild  and  wonderful  narrative  of  "Captain  Kidd  "  forms  a 
story  which  the  imagination  of  Dickens  or  Dumas  could  scarcely 
rival. 

"  La  Salle"  was  one  of  the  purest  and  noblest  of  the  pioneers  of 
American  civilization,  and  as  such  his  history  should  be  read  and 
understood. 

In  "  Columbus  "  we  have  again  the  story  of  the  discovery  of 
America,  while  the  lives  of  "Franklin"  and  "Washington"  take 
us  among  the  times  that  tried  men's  souls,  the  dark  days  of  the 
Revolution  and  the  early  years  of  the  United  States. 


MINOR  WARS  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES, 

A  Series  of  Popular  Histories,  uniform  with  the 
Pioneer  and  Patriot  and  American  Indian 
Series.  Each  I  vol.,  I2mo,  attractively  bound 
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1.  THE  WAR  OF  1812.    By  ROSSITER  JOHNSON. 

2.  THE  OLD  FRENCH  WAR.     By  ROSSITER  JOHNSON. 

3.  THE  WAR  WITH  MEXICO.     By  H.  O.  LADD. 

4.  KING  PHILLIP'S  WAR.     By  RICHARD  MAKKHAM. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

By  F.  B.  GOUL.DING. 

THE  YOUNG  MAROONERS.  With  introduc- 
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THE  WOODRUFF  STORIES.  Sapelo— Nar- 
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—a  classic  so  to  speak.  It  is  vigorous,  interesting,  suggestive. 
Every  boy  and  girl  will  thank  you  for  a  copy." — Item,  Philadelphia. 

NOVELS  BY  MARTHA  FINLEY. 

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cloth,  $1.25. 

CASELLA.    A  Tale  of  the  Waldenses. 
OUR  FRED  ;  or,  Seminary  Life  at  Thurston. 
OLD-FASHIONED  BOY. 
WANTED,  A  PEDIGREE. 
THE  THORN  IN  THE  NEST. 

SIGNING  THE  CONTRACT,  AND  WHAT  IT 
COST. 

"This  story  is  original  in  plan,  written  in  natural  tone,  at  many 
points  extremely  touching,  and  possessing  interests  for  all  those 
readers  who  like  fiction  which  develops  lessons  of  a  highly  spiritual 
character." — Literary  World. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

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ELSIE  DINSMORE.  ELSIE'S  NEW  RELATIONS. 

ELSIE'S  GIRLHOOD.  ELSIE  AT  NANTUCKET. 

ELSIE'S   HOLIDAYS  AT  THE  TWO  ELSIES. 

ROSELANDS.  ELSIE'S  KITH  AND  KIN. 
ELSIE'S  WOMANHOOD.  ELSIE'S    FRIENDS  AT 
ELSIE'S  MOTHERHOOD.  WOODBURN. 
ELSIE'S  CHILDREN.  CHRISTMAS  WITH  GRAND- 
ELSIE'S  WIDOWHOOD.  MA  ELSIE. 
GRANDMOTHER  ELSIE.  ELSIE  AND  THE  RAYMONDS. 

"The  one  cause  of  this  author's  popularity  among  thoughtful 
people  is  that  she  never  neglects  to  inculcate  the  doctrines  of  upright 
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life  that  she  has  given  us  are  told  in  so  delightful  a  manner  that  one 
becomes  quite  as  interested  in  reading  them  as  the  more  sensational 
books  of  the  day." — Detroit  Commercial  Advertiser. 

The  author  of  the  Elsie  Books  is  not  a  stranger  to  youthful  read- 
ers, especially  to  the  girls,  with  whom  she  is  a  great  favorite.  Her 
stories  are  pure  and  good,  and  yet  full  of  incident  which  interests  and 
holds  the  attention,  but  does  not  unduly  excite.  Such  books  as  this 
are  healthful  in  their  influence. 

THE  MILDRED  BOOKS.  A  Companion  Series 
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box,  $7.50. 

MILDRED  KEITH.  MILDRED  AND  ELSIE. 

MLANDD!EDATR°SE"  MILDRED  AT  HOME. 
MILDRED'S     MARRIED  MILDRED'S  BOYS  AND 
LIFE.  GIRLS. 

"  In  a  sweet,  simple  strain  the  author  tells  the  story  of  her  char- 
acters, their  romances,  their  joys,  and  their  sorrows.  Miss  Finley 
portrays  so  beautiful  a  Christian  spirit  pervading  the  households  and 
individuals  she  represents,  that  religion  through  them  seems  very  at- 
tractive."— Christian  Observer* 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &•  COMPACT. 

The  Works  of  Mrs.  ANDREW  CHARLES. 

Each  in  i  vol.,  I2mo,  cloth,  $1.00. 

CHRONICLES  OF  THE  SCHONBERG-COTTA  FAMILY, 
as  Told  by  Two  of  Themselves. 

EARLY  DAWN  (THE) ;  or,  Sketches  of  Christian  Life  in  Eng- 
land in  the  Early  Time. 

DIARY  OF  KITTY  TRE VELYAN.     A  Story  of  the  Times  of 
Whitefield  and  the  Wesleys. 

WINIFRED  BERTRAM,  AND  THE  WORLD  SHE  LIVED 
IN. 

THE  DRAYTONS  AND  THE  D  AVENANTS.     A  Story  of  the 
Civil  Wars. 

ON  BOTH  SIDES  OF  THE  SEA.    A  Story  of  the  Common- 
wealth  and  the  Restoration. 

THE  VICTORY  OF  THE  VANQUISHED.     A  Story  of  the 
First  Century. 

JOAN  THE  MAID,  DELIVERER  OF  FRANCE  AND  ENG- 
LAND. 

LAPSED,   BUT   NOT   LOST.     A  Tale  of  Carthage  and  the 
Early  Church. 

NOTE-BOOK  OF  THE  BERTRAM  FAMILY.    A  Sequel  to 
"  Winifred  Bertram." 

WOMEN  OF  CHRISTENDOM.     Being  Sketches  of  the  Lives 
of  the  Notable  Christian  Women  of  History. 

WATCHWORDS  FOR  THE  WARFARE   OF  LIFE.     Se- 
lected from  the  Writings  of  Luther. 

CONQUERING  AND  TO  CONQUER. 

AGAINST  THE  STREAM.     The  Story  of  an  Heroic  Age  in 

England. 

THREE  MARTYRS  OF  THE  XIX.  CENTURY. 

"  The  moral  tendency  of  the  books  by  this  author  is  of  the  high- 
est character,  and  as  she  is  wont  to  take  a  subject  which  brings  her 
into  the  domain  of  religious  history  she  teaches  lessons  of  the  great- 
est value  to  young  and  old," — New  York  Observer* 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,   MEAD  &   COMPANY. 

GREAT     EXPLORERS    AND     EXPLORA- 
TIONS. 

Messrs.  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY  announce  that,  in 
connection  with  Messrs.  G.  Philip  &  Son,  of  London,  they 
have  begun  the  publication  of  a  series  entitled 

GREAT  EXPLORERS  AND  EXPLORATIONS. 

Edited   by   J.  Scott    Keltic,    Librarian    Royal 

Geographical  Society;  H.  J.  Mackinder,  M.A., 

.     Reader    in  *  Geography  at    the    University   of 

Oxford ;  and  E.  G.  Ravenstein,  F.R.G.S. 

The  volumes  will  deal  with  the  life  and  work  of  those  heroic 
adventurers  through  whose  exertions  the  face  of  the  earth  has  been 
made  known  to  humanity. 

Each  will,  so  far  as  the  ground  covered  admits,  deal  mainly  with 
one  prominent  name  associated  with  some  particular  region,  and 
will  tell  the  story  of  his  life  and  adventures,  and  describe  the  work 
which  he  accomplished  in  the  service  of  geographical  discovery.  The 
aim  will  be  to  do  ample  justice  to  geographical  results,  while  the 
personality  of  the  explorer  is  never  lost  sight  of.  In  a  few  cases,  in 
which  the  work  of  discovery  cannot  be  possibly  associated  with  the 
name  of  any  single  explorer,  some  departure  from  this  plan  may  be 
unavoidable,  but  it  will  be  followed  as  far  as  practicable.  It  is  hoped 
that  when  the  series  is  concluded,  it  will  form  a  fairly  complete  Bio- 
graphical History  of  Geographical  Discovery. 

Each  volume  will  be  written  by  a  recognized  authority  on  this 
subject,  and  will  be  amply  furnished  with  specially  prepared  maps, 
portraits,  and  other  original  illustrations. 

While  the  names  of  the  writers  whose  co-operation  has  been 
secured  are  an  indication  of  the  high  standard  aimed  at  from  a  liter- 
ary and  scientific  point  of  view,  the  series  will  be  essentially  a  popu- 
lar one,  appealing  to  the  great  mass  of  general  readers,  young  and 
old,  who  have  always  shown  a  keen  interest  in  the  story  of  the 
world's  exploration,  when  well  told. 

Each  volume  will  consist  of  about  300  pp,  I2mo,  and  will  be 
published  at  $1-25. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,   MEAD  <Sr-   COMPANY. 
Two  volumes  of  the  series  are  now  published,  namely : 

JOHN  DAVIS.  Arctic  Explorer  and  Early  India 
Navigator.  By  Clements  R.  Markham,  C.B., 
F.R.S. 

PALESTINE.  By  Major  C.  R.  Conder,  R.E., 
Leader  of  the  Palestine  Exploring  Expeditions. 

The  following  are  in  rapid  preparation : 

MAGELLAN  AND  THE  PACIFIC.  By  Dr.  H. 
H.  Guillemard,  author  of  "  The  Cruise  of  the 
Marchesa." 

JOHN  FRANKLIN  AND  THE  NORTHWEST 
PASSAGE.  By  Captain  Albert  Markham,  R.N. 

SAUSSURE  AND  THE  ALPS.  By  Douglas  W. 
Freshfield,  Hon.  Sec.  Royal  Geographical 
Society. 

MUNGO  PARK  AND  THE  NIGER.  By  Joseph 
Thomson,  author  of  "Through  Masai  Land," 
etc. 

THE  HIMALAYA."  By  Lieut-General  R. 
Strachey,  R.E.,  C.S.L,  late  President  of  the 
R.G.S. 

LIVINGSTONE  AND  CENTRAL  AFRICA. 
By  H.  H.  Johnston,  H.B.M.,  Consul  at  Mozam- 
bique. 

ROSS  AND  THE  ANTARCTIC.  By  H.  J.  Mac- 
kinder,  M.A.,  Reader  in  Geography  at  Oxford. 

BRUCE  AND  THE  NILE.  By  J.  Scott  Keltic, 
Librarian,  R.G.S. 

VASCO  DA  GAMA  AND  THE  OCEAN  HIGH- 
WAY TO  INDIA.  By  E.  G.  Ravenstein, 
F.R.G.S. 

It  is  proposed  to  include  in  the  series  several  volumes  devoted 
to  American  Explorers. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

The  Novels  of  AMELIA    E.    BARR. 

Each  I2tno,  cloth,  $1.25. 
JAN  VEDDER'S  WIFE. 
A  DAUGHTER  OF  FIFE. 
THE  BOW  OF  ORANGE  RIBBON. 
THE  SQUIRE  OF  SANDAL-SIDE. 
A  BORDER  SHEPHERDESS. 
PAUL  AND  CHRISTINA. 
MASTER  OF  HIS  FATE. 
REMEMBER  THE  ALAMO. 
THE  LAST  OF  THE  MACALLISTERS. 
BETWEEN  TWO  LOVES. 
FEET  OF  CLAY. 
Cheap  Editions  in  paper  have  been  issued  of  "Jan  Vedder'a 

Wife,"  "  Bow  of  Orange  Ribbon."    Each  8vo,  25  cents. 

"I  want  to  thank  you  for  the  pleasure  I  have  had  in  reading 
'Jan  Vedder's  Wife/  It  is  the  most  natural  story  I  have  read  in 
years,  and  is  delightfully  fresh  and  true  from  beginning  to  end."— • 
J.  HABBERTON. 

'"A  Daughter  of  Fife.'  A  good  story  touchingly  told  in  the 
sea  tongue  of  the  Fife  fishermen.  These  tender  stories  of  broad 
Scotch  dialect  have  a  strong  and  mysterious  hold  upon  the  human 
heart." —  Washington  Post. 

" '  The  Bow  of  Orange  Ribbon '  is  a  romance  pure  and  simple. 
The  love  tale  which  forms  the  main  thread  of  the  novel  is  a  singularly 
pure  and  touching  one.  The  story  contains  abundance  of  incident, 
and  moves  rapidly  and  easily." — The  Christian  Union. 

"  '  Master  of  His  Fate*  is  in  some  respects  the  most  realistic  of 
Mrs.  Barr's  novels.  There  is  a  keen  power  and  fine  discrimination 
in  the  character  drawing  that  makes  the  book  attractive  and 
thoroughly  entertaining  in  the  reading." — The  Gazette,  Boston, 

"Judging  Mrs.  Barr  by  what  she  has  already  accomplished  and 
comparing  it  carefully  with  the  productions,  as  wholes,  of  other 
American  women  in  the  same  field,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  pronounce  it 
superior  to  theirs  in  its  entirety,  however  it  may  fall  below  in  separate 
details.  And  so  it  seems  to  me  Amelia  E.  Barr  may  very  well  rank 
as  the  foremost  woman  novelist  of  America."— OSCAR  FAY  ADAMS 
in  Andwer  Review. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &»  COMPANY. 

The  Works  of  EDWARD  GARRETT. 

A  new  edition,  bound  in  uniform  style.     I2mo,  cloth, 
per  vol.,  $1.00. 

DOING  AND  DREAMING. 

BY  STILL  WATERS. 

GOLD  AND  DROSS  ;  or,  Hester  Capel's  Inheritance. 

CROOKED  PLACES.    A  Story  of  Struggles  and  Triumphs. 

PREMIUMS  PAID  TO  EXPERIENCE. 

THE  DEAD  SIN,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 

THE  OCCUPATIONS  OF  A  RETIRED  LIFE. 

THE  CRUST  AND  THE  CAKE. 

THE  HOUSE  BY  THE  WORKS. 

FAMILY  FORTUNES. 

HER  OBJECT  IN  LIFE. 

AT  ANY  COST. 

EQUAL  TO  THE  OCCASION. 

JOHN  WINTER.     A  Story  of  the  Harvest. 

LIFE'S  LONG  BATTLE  WON. 

"  There  is  a  quiet  charm  about  the  writings  of  Edward  Garrett, 
a  simple  purity  of  thought,  a  high  but  unpretending  range  of  senti- 
ment, a  tender  piety  without  Phariseeism,  an  expression  and  fulfil- 
ment, in  fine,  of  culture  and  modest  Christianity,  which  is  peculiarly 
satisfying  to  the  soul  in  these  times  of  worldly  worry  and  worldly  in- 
tensity."— N.  Y.  Evening  Mail. 

Edward  Garrett  has  done  good  service  in  giving  these  wholesome 
stones  to  the  public.  Without  a  word  of  preaching,  each  points  un- 
erringly to  the  right  course,  and  not  only  young  men  and  women, 
but  older  people,  may  learn  many  valuable  lessons  from  their  silent 
teaching. 

'"Crooked  Places'  tells  a  healthful  story  of  an  English  family 
reduced  from  wealth  to  poverty,  who  overcame  trials,  and  emerged 
from  their  struggles  purified  and  developed." — Christian  Era. 

"  The  great  value  of  Doing  over  Dreaming  is  illustrated  by  the 
history  of  two  families  who  lived  side  by  side,  and  the  principle  and 
necessity  of  having  a  worthy  purpose  in  life  or  an  object  to  live  for. 
and  a  willingness  to  do  whatever  is  necessary  to  gain  the  end  in  view, 
is  enforced  in  such  a  manner  as  to  show  the  dignity  and  honorable- 
ness  of  such  a  course  over  a  time  serving  policy." — St,  Louis  Evan- 
gelist. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DO  DP,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

By    EDWARD     and    GEORGE    CARY 
EGGLESTON. 

FAMOUS  AMERICAN  INDIANS.  A  series 
illustrative  of  Early  American  History.  Each 
in  one  handsome  volume,  illustrated  with  maps 
and  engravings.  Uniformly  bound.  I2mo, 
cloth,  per  volume,  $1.00. 

TECUMSEH    AND    THE     SHAWNEE     PROPHET.      By 

EDWARD  EGGLESTON  and  LILLIE  EGGLESTON  SEELYE. 
RED  EAGLE.     By  GEORGE  GARY  EGGLESTON. 
POCAHONTAS.     By  EDWARD  EGGLESTON  and  Mrs.  SEELYE. 
BRANDT  AND  RED  JACKET.     By  the  same. 
MONTEZUMA.     By  the  same. 

These  books  deal  with  the  most  romantic  period  of  American 
history.  Tecumseh,  the  greatest  of  the  Shavvnees,  was  perhaps  the 
greatest  genius  of  his  race  known  in  the  annals  of  our  country.  The 
Life  of  Red  Eagle  throws  light  on  the  Creek  War,  which  broke  out 
in  Alabama  in  1813,  and  was  finally  brought  to  an  end  by  the 
bloody  battle  of  Tohopeka,  fought  by  Jackson  in  1814. 

In  "Montezuma"  the  authors  have  told  the  ever-interesting 
story  of  the  Aztecs  and  their  last  emperors  in  language  at  once  simple 
and  attractive.  In  "Brandt  and  Red  Jacket"  we  have  again  the 
thrilling  accounts  of  the  struggles  of  our  forefathers  in  the  Middle 
States,  while  Pocahontas  takes  us  to  the  first  settlement  of  the  Old 
Dominion. 

By  KIRKE   MUNROE. 

THE  GOLDEN  DAYS  OF  '49.  A  Tale  of  the 
California  Diggings.  By  Kirke  Munroe,  author 
of  "The  Flamingo  Feather,"  "Wakulla," 
"  Derrick  Sterling."  With  10  full-page  illus- 
trations by  W.  C.  Jackson.  8vo,  cloth,  $2.25. 

"  A  book  fascinating  from  beginning  to  end.  It  tells  in  vigorous 
English,  but  without  exaggeration,  the  story  of  a  successful  search  for 
a  mysterious  '  Golden  Valley.'  It  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining 
and  creditable  of  holiday  books." — IV.  Y.  Tribune. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 

By    Prof.    ALFRED    J.    CHURCH. 

Each  I  vol.,  I2mo.  Illustrated  with  about  20 
plates,  many  in  color,  from  designs  by  Flax- 
man  and  others.  Cloth,  per  vol.,  $1.50. 

STORIES  FROM  HOMER. 

STORIES  FROM  VIRGIL. 

STORIES  FROM  THE  GREEK  TRAGEDIANS. 

STORIES  FROM  LIVY. 

ROMAN  LIFE  IN  THE  DAYS  OF  CICERO. 

STORIES  OF  THE  PERSIAN  WAR  FROM  HERODO- 
TUS. 

STORIES  FROM  HERODOTUS. 

TWO  THOUSAND  YEARS  AGO ;  OR,  THE  ADVEN- 
TURES OF  A  ROMAN  BOY. 

STORIES  OF  THE  MAGICIANS. 
WITH  THE  KING  AT  OXFORD. 
THE  CHANTRY  PRIEST  OF  BARNET. 

"  Alfred  J.  Church  has  done  for  the  classics  what  Charles  and 
Mary  Lamb  did  for  Shakespeare,  and  what  the  former  proposed  to 
do  at  one  time  for  Beaumont  and  Fletcher." — Mail  and  Express. 

"  They  are  well  done,  open  the  way  well  to  classic  study,  are 
full  of  interest  on  their  own  account.  Excepting  the  Bible,  nothing 
is  better,  if  anything  is  so  good.  These  stories  have,  too,  this  ad- 
vantage over  the  ordinary  moralizing  didactics,  that  they  are  strong 
and  manly  and  exhibit  virtue  in  a  large,  noble,  and  imposing  light, 
not  shining  in  holiness,  perhaps,  but  free  from  littleness  and  man- 
nerism."— Independent, 

HISTORIES  OF  THE  OLD  WORLD.  A  Se- 
ries of  Popular  Histories.  Each  I  vol.,  8vo, 
with  frontispiece.  Cloth,  extra,  per  vol.,  $1.50. 

ITALY.        1  TURKEY.  By  EDSON  L.  CLARKE. 

Aulf  RIA.   f  JoHN  S"  ^ABBOTT.  EGYPT.     By  J.  C.  McCoAN. 

PRUSSIA.  J  GERMANY.    By  BARING  GOULQ 


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